I'll Give You the Drum!

A while ago I made a spotty seven. It wasn't fancy but kind of noice. I didn't know at the time that the Beck-hams had named their last child Harper Seven. ( Does this not sound like a Sci-fi television series?) Don't they just do cities as names? We haven't been to the dentist enough to read the ditzy mags to keep up with the Beck-hams.Now I had planned to do a bit of this today as I'm on a good book at the moment. I tried to read it yesterday while Shorty was dropping gluten free cereal (costly) down my ample cleavage. It was difficult to really focus. Lala's room is pleasant as they take longer to find me there and the light is nice in the afternoon.
Instead of reattempting the reading I went to Kmart to get more birthday presents for children I don't know. There I found this lamp for Lala. I figured it could undergo a seven-izing treatment. On the way back I passed Ron and Brian's and there was a park so I had to go in. There was an old Golden book I haven't come across before, Paul Gallico's 'Snow Gooose' and one of those little thermos bottles which I have been looking for to use for milk. I take tea to parks a lot. The drum was a keeper. She banged and sang while I perused the boutique de bric-a brac. "Pleeeease, Mum?" It was $2. "I'll give you the drum, Flossy." It is the only shop she asks for toys in.
This was $6.00 because it had a scratch. I was going to paint it anyway.
In between paint coats I made this lot of puffy pikelets. The ones we made Friday with hands being flicked away from batter and general mayhem, were beefy tough wharfy pikelets. They still ate them. They'd eat cardboard if I put cream and jam on it. Today's were light and carefree, their success attributed directly to the light hearted, less busy mother and the nifty orange spatula of goodness.
Remember this recipe. Undercoat the thingo, and cover it with round stickers/ reinforcers.
Whack a bit of red paint over it. A couple of coats is good over white.


Dry with a hairdryer as it is raining chickens and rug rats and I want to finish it before dinner. I do love a scalpel- makes me feel all surgical and precise although nothing could be further from reality.Throw everything on the floor and take a pretty picture before telling the victim/ recipient to tidy her terribly messy room. The injustice of it, and now to fake dinner.