People get ready

for advent...so many treats to follow.

Cakes and Clothes for you and yours.

Last night was the Cedar's official album launch for "I'm Always Explaining to Mom How it's Different Here." We made bunting. We made cakes. We (I) made (monogramed) clothes. Oh, and there was music also. And an audience. A real nice, big, I-think-full-even audience.

The cake break-down was as follows:

Neil: Victoria Sponge (with cream and jam)
El: Lemon Cake
Em: Pink Cupcakes and Blue cupcakes
Beth: Vegan (!) cranberry apple "cheese" cake
Ben H: Amazing child-birthday party type cake thing
Ben G: Some biscuits stuck together with chocolate
Tony: Brownies _and_ shortbread.

The official Cedarware break-down was as follows:
(All were items were found at charity shops and then monogrammed. Many sizes, many styles, one great "Cedar" look.)

So I be written in the book of love.

I'm not American, or gay, and yet, this is so very, very relevant.

Stop. Think.

On my way home from Edinburgh last week I had to change at London, crushing my way through ridiculously busy King's Cross station. Among all the commuters flowing in perpetual motion, in the place where they normally post which lines are delayed, was this:

Machines

An idea I read recently, like the sad, ultra-realist antonym of cartoon belief:

Maybe inanimate objects become much more inanimate at night, when no one's looking at them.

Of course they do. When I'm not there, talking to my bike, it's just a bike. Metal, rubber, cold.

(Phenomenologists among you could expand this idea towards humanity...or just stick with the cartoon idea. Either way.)