Apple Cake

Thursday afternoon, miserable outdoors,
- a mini-tornado in Kensal Rise, just
the other side of North London.
My cat and I stayed put. I made
an apple cake.

The mixture looked very dry. Added
a lot more milk. Gave it a good
beating. Started pouring scraping
the mixture into a tin -
AGHHHHHH - forgot the apple!

This proves there is a god out
there who
looks after my cake,
steers George's right hand when
he throws the switch,
disguises weapons of mass distruction,
waves his plonker, sorry - trident - over
the sea,
sends those I really
dislike to bake on the bottom self
in a low oven.

One large apple
later, grated, and all was ok.
Truely a miracle. My cat
is a true saint.
St. Milkshake, bless her.