Friday night and the baking cupboard of doom ...

Friday evening ... here finally! Not only Friday night, THE Friday night before half term. As a teacher this particular Friday evening always has a wonderful feeling. A whole week of freedom, lie ins, time to get everything done I have needed to do for the last 6 weeks lies ahead, all fluffy and euphoric (and a pile of portfolios to put into order for verification .. but lets not think about that right now). 

Tonight I decided I had 3 choices .. all VERY rock 'n' roll and befitting to my 32 year "wild child" old self as you will see .. 

1) Lie down on the comfy sofa (husband at work so the comfy sofa is MINE all night) drink copious amounts of tea and get my Tudor fix in the company of Anne Boleyn, Thomas Cromwell and a bunch of very clever, interesting historians .. right up my street (I am a history obsessive for those who would like to know ....) 

2) Sit at the kitchen table rocking out to Absolute 90s, pretending I was still at The Room in Hull as a student back in 1998, a bit of Jarvis, a bit of Primal Scream, a blow out to Rage Against the Machine .. and start on the portfolios  finish a painting I started 2 years ago. 

3) Bake and catch up with the blog. Bread for the weekend, a cake to use up a very kind birthday gift of tons rhubarb from my bosses allotment and maybe even a cheeky play with Blob, the sourdough starter. 

It was a no brainer .. bake of course .. then I remembered .. THIS .. THE CUPBOARD OF DOOM ... 




The cupboard of BLOODY DOOM ... last time I baked, last week a porter cake for a birthday I SWORE I was going to sort the cupboard out. I can't get to anything, reach the sugar, out falls the baking powder. Fancy a vanilla pod? Not before whole jar of cinnamon falls down and breaks all over the floor (true story). Don't even get me started by the meringue ruined by a small dredging of ground almonds & salt as I reached for the cream of tatar. Want the really bad news? This is only cupboard 1 of 3 nightmares .. there is also the bread cupboard and the tin store, I couldn't show you the bread cupboard. It's X rated. The rye flour cries when I open the door "let me out of this hell hole." 

Do you know what I did? I jumped straight on the sofa and got better acquainted with Anne Boleyn. I just CAN'T do it ...

So any hits, tips or words of comfort to help me do this tomorrow (or how fellow bakers keep organised and saintly) would be well received. It's times like this when being creative SUCKS ... maybe I could call it modern art? Could you cope with your baking things like this? How do you stay organised? If you can help please leave a comment or call 0800-HELP-ME immediately!