There are a number of reasons I wouldn’t make a good baker. Obviously, my lack of cake decorating skills for one. I discovered another this morning. My foggy, 6am brain doesn’t make things easy. And, of course, bakers tend to get up early.
I woke up this morning at 5am, intending to make Denise a batch of travelling shortbread. I was drinking my coffee pretending to listen to the World Service, covered with dogs, when I suddenly realised I hadn’t left any butter out to soften.
I got up again, shifting puppies, and sorted that, then went back to bed for bit. Finally, half asleep I started. And I overworked the dough, didn’t I. And it went all crumbly. It tasted fine but was a pain to work with.
Anyway, I successfully made a batch and then settled down to write yesterday’s blog.
And you’d think that would be it for today’s woes, but you’d be wrong.
Denise flew back today and we’d meticulously planned the journey into Stockholm. The trouble is, we didn’t ask Mälartåg to include us in their train scheduling.
And it snowed this morning. Looked all lovely, I said it was a special Trosa farewell for Denise as she headed for the unbearable heat of home.
As well as icy conditions, there was another surprise for us at Vagnhärad Station: Not only was the train delayed, meaning an hour’s wait, but also there was a replacement bus arriving instead of the train.
Of course, it was my job to stop the flow of panic. Eventually, after a few attempts to discover the issue, I decided the best course of action was to get the green Sörmlands 802 bus to Södertälje Syd where another train would do to get us to Stockholm Centralen about two minutes later than we scheduled.
All was good with the bonus of a local bus ride. There was also a woman who was being annoying who gave us something else to concentrate our stress on. And I’ve never been to Södertälje Syd Station before. Well, apart from while on the train into Stockholm.
I managed to happily deposit Denise onto the Arlanda Express that was scheduled to leave in about eight minutes and I returned to the main station concourse to check out how I was going to get home. That’s when I discovered that everything was running as it should and I gladly hopped on the next train home. That was all well and good for me.
In the meanwhilst, Denise’s woes were just beginning.
The Express sat at the station for 20 minutes then, as she dropped her bag at the check-in desk was told the flight was full and she’d missed it. She said she’d already checked in online and how was that possible. Look, she said, I have a seat! She was told to rush through security and head for the boarding gate and she may make it.
She did as she was told and, as she started to sail through security, for the first time ever, she was pulled up because of something in her bag. She emptied it for them to show there was nothing and then the bag went back through security. There was nothing untoward in the bag and she continued the race to her gate.
She was still seated at the gate about three hours later because the boarding was delayed. The plane was scheduled to leave Arlanda at 14:30 and fly to Dubai where her connection was leaving two hours after she landed. Her plane left Arlanda at 17:47, and, clearly, she missed her connecting flight. On the bright side she was put on another flight the next day and she (and her fellow transferring passengers) were shuttled to a hotel for a few hours lie down.
Back here, I left the train at Vagnhärad and skated to the waiting Mirinda. Back at home I made Christmas rissoles or Chrissoles as Mirinda dubbed them.
That was the only photo I took today. Strange but true.
