The Mata Hari Institute of Culinary Excellence

[Pleater]

I'm beginning to like Mister Brown, though he almost killed Madam Erzulie this afternoon.
He called in a unit he has some connection with. They can normally get into anywhere that is on the main drains. They have a wagon that looks just like a drain clearing device, but instead of clearing, it first of all blocks both ends of a section of the main pipe, and then it blows.

They had made a recording of their visit - and had it sent over by motorcycle courier along with the receiver for the bugs they had left behind. Madam Erzulie laughed until she could not breathe.

I went home and watched the new Harry Potter dvd. Luna Lovegood hopes there are puddings, twice. I shall take the disc to the House tomorrow and show it to Mister Brown. It might be nothing, but then again - better have it checked.

[Pleater]

Mister Brown was at the nine thirty soviet this morning, looking grim. One evening of listening to what the bugs picked up had convinced him.
'We have a problem.'
Bronwen gave him a rather old fashioned look.
'Someone intending to take over the world is rather old hat here, James, and from what you have said, those two both intend something different. If they were working together it might be difficult, as they certainly have ideas. Fortunately so do we.'
'Such as?'
'A hamper at Christmas has solved a lot of problems in the past.'
He sighed impatiently.
'I'm sorry - this is hardly something that can be solved using sugar and spice.
It is serious. Is the Minister up to speed on this?'
Daphne slid a sheet of paper across the table.
'He authorised the use of chemical weapons last night.'
Mister Brown's eyebrows rose.
'That is what it comes under, these days. I'd like you to find out what their plans are for Christmas. Do you have any information on the chemicals used in the magazines? Are we likely to suffer such angst in the mornings for very long?'
'I have no information yet - where is the Minister?'
'On a tour of the House, and I believe he intends to take a walk before lunch, as it is such a pleasant morning. His secretary and his wife requested breakfast in bed.'
Daphne looked slightly mischievous but I think Mister Brown missed it as he was reading the form. He said he had a lot to do and left.
We continued with House matters for a while. I was given three more sets of ingredients and instructions for the baking I was to do.
'Is something troubling you?'
'There is mention of puddings in the Harry Potter film just out.'
They nodded.
'That's quite alright.'
'And Mister Brown doesn't think our work - works.'
'That is probably a good thing.'
'And Globo-Fashion?'
'They eat - so we can do something.'
There was a tapping on the door, and Mister McGreagor came in. Daphne took him away to plot something, and I noticed that she had finally given up the classic low heeled court shoes and was wearing trainers.

[Pleater]

I used the excuse of having to weigh out the spices for the baking to have Amber join me when the time for making the cake approached.

She creamed half a pound of slightly salted butter with the same weight of soft dark sugar, then beat in four eggs, consecutively, and finally I added what amounted to a few drops of almond essence, and a teaspoonful of vanilla essence.

She certainly will have no problem of appearing to be of just about average intelligence, but she seems to have learned her lesson and is not taking calls from anyone to do with her uncle, who seems to have vanished, at the moment.

The long kilt as worn by Mister McGreagor does seem to be exciting interest amongst the gels, and there is much speculation.
'Boxers.' I told her. She seemed very disappointed.
'His father on the other hand is a traditionalist.'
Her eyes opened and her mouth contracted so that with her hair under the obligatory head scarf she looked not unlike a bowling ball. There must have been a collision of two, or even more brain cells.
'How do you know?'
'Mister McGreagor was taken to the infirmary and stripped off when the heat was too much for him at the disco, his father helped me run up stairs to get him some cooler clothing.'
She giggled.

I went on weighing out approximately one teaspoonful of the ground spices; cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, clove and mixed spice, and adding them to one pound of plain flour.

'I have always found it advisable to assume that all men come with the same equipment, which they keep in the same place - and have not found much variation, though admittedly I have not examined a wide sample. I have never quite understood the urge to find out - I mean - what do you do once you know?'
She did not seem to have an answer and not wanting to strain her I turned my attention to combining the flour and fruit mixtures, a little at a time with the butter and sugar. Finally I added two teaspoons of baking powder, sprinkled onto the surface and mixed in well. The mixture was then placed in tins lined with three layers of greaseproof paper, the innermost given a rubbing with butter to reduce the possibility of it sticking, and then the tops decorated in a pattern of blanched almonds. The covers were put on the tins, and I programmed the oven to cook for two hours at 325 degrees Fahrenheit, and then for a further two hours at 300 degrees. I would not have to return to remove them until the following day, and I locked the doors so that they could not be removed before then.

That evening I met the Minister, who seems to be a rather jovial sort - though it could have been the preprandial drinks with the directors which caused that. His wife is ever so much a diplomat's wife, poor dear, but she seems to be very fond of him. Madam Erzulie was talking to her most of the time as they had at one time been in the same part of Africa and knew lots of people from there.

I wore my rather faded Black Watch kilt, with a deep green velvet jacket, and Mister Brown said I looked like an officer in the rifles, which I think he meant as a compliment even though it could not be true. After dinner and port he came to talk to me. We have never taken to the ritual of the ladies leaving the men after dinner, not since one of the earlier directors declared that if she went out, the port was going with her.

He seems very exercised about this Globo-Fashion business. I think he means to do something quite drastic - the sort of thing that involves lots of burly men smashing down doors and rushing around shouting a lot. He seemed quite perplexed that I tried to persuade him that there were more civilised ways of doing things.

[Pleater]

I suppose it is extra security for the Minister's visit, but it is just unfortunate that there are any number of furtive fellows around the grounds and even on the roof and the weather has changed from very pleasant to frankly awful.

The ones up in the belvedere have some shelter, but I saw the ones on the Rotunda make a strategic withdrawal when it started get really bad with the hailstones plus thunder and lightening. It is bitterly cold too and the students have found that their academic gowns of warm gray wool are suddenly quite the thing. We are quite high up here, and open to all the weather, so there is a real need for warm clothes. I handed out the rabbit fur waistcoats, and saw that Madam Erzulie has once again brought out the cloak I made for her the first year she was here. I found a few things for our visitors too, though the younger couple don't seem inclined to get out of bed at all.

[davedove]

He seems very exercised about this Globo-Fashion business. I think he means to do something quite drastic - the sort of thing that involves lots of burly men smashing down doors and rushing around shouting a lot.

We all know that's the only real way to get a job done.

[Pleater]

Mister McGreagor seemed quite concerned about my not doing my usual security check last night. He worries too much - I mean all those men around the place - who's going to break in? I should be so lucky hey?

I'm just going to get some carrots for the rabbits, and maybe find some peas for the hens - they must get really bored with the food here - Is that fear fare fier? - I mean - we get to eat them and enjoy - and they get those pellets all ti thime.

[Pleater]

Hee hee they thought I was dnurk - just because I fell over a bit - they're ovely bepole but such fishputs.

They said I ought to have a lid down - don't know why - I feel great.

dassssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss sssssssss

[Pleater]

They are a pair of wicked old biddies!!

I mean - when opening up a freshly baked Christmas cake who is not going to take a good deep breath of that lovely aroma? And get a good big dose of the concentrated spice oils.

I am so embarrassed - I just hope none of the students saw me base over apex in the shrubbery.

Apparently they were just testing it - me being the director most likely to show the greatest alteration.

Fancy someone leaving behind their notebook in a pocket - a pocket of something just left in a wardrobe - well - it was not just lying around, the last person to use the bed in that room was probably one of Queen Victoria's naughty cousins, and the wardrobe could probably hide the doorways to several magical kingdoms.

At least it does not leave you with a hangover.

I was probably affected by it yesterday - thinking about it with that dreadful clarity which comes post antidote. Actually I don't think it was entirely counteracted, or I would be far angrier than this.

No wonder everyone gets misty eyed about world peace and goodwill to all men at this time of year.