That Old Cake Thing Again.

So the best friend with baby Tilly asks me, a day or so after my sister's wedding, if I wouldn't mind making a cake for Tilly's Celebration party.

"A single Cake I say. I don't mind making just one cake. But I'm not making loads like we did before."

"Cool," she says, "Excellent. Can it have icing strawberries on it?"

"Icing strawberries!" I say. "What a wicked idea!"

So that's what we've been doing for the past week, my Mum and I. Making icing strawberries and strawberry flowers and leaves and bows and butterflies all for a pink cake, which is also pink and cream marbly sponge inside, and which has strawberry icing. Yum.

So here it is, Ta-da!



The star of the party probably won't be impressed since she still prefers baby rice, but hey, she might like the pretty colours and I'm glad to make it for her.

Still, the sense of satisfaction I get from doing it is disturbing. I am becoming increasingly terrified of turning into one of those sugarcraft women, who have frilly aprons and badly permed hair.

*Shivers.*