Oh yes, absolutely L’decorator provocateur chocolatier! The Chocky Wocky Road became a Chocky Wonky Hillock on the Wocky road to pure chaos. There was limited decorous intention. Little more than walloping a couple of boxes of chocolates over it.  Pure preposterousness of self ensued?

Ting of a great idea: Fabricate melted chocolate to pour over balloons to make a couple of chocolate cages. A milk one to be placed over the über egg cake. The dark chocolate cage over that.  Watch and learn Mr. Faberge, just you watch and learn.

 

Balloon No. 1.

Inflate, to be comfortably large enough to amply cover the permafrozen dinosaur-esque egg, which was shoved into a jug, ostensibly secured into place. After which drizzle with melted milk chocolate.  A little oil to stop it sticking, drizzle back and forth, add stars, job done?

Well, err no. Not exactly, see splodge below.

  

  

 

The weight of the chocolate had inflated the ego of said balloon gifting it the impetus to upturn. Since I’m not the brightest star in the sky,  I hadn’t pushed it firmly enough into the jug. Living to regret this slight oversight there was further incredulity.  My natural knee jerk reaction was to stop it from rolling. Both it, and I, ended up plastered in chocolatey squiggles. The tape required to secure said balloon was in my study.

Never one to underestimate the power of the positive …..

Carries heavy earthenware jug, with yellow balloon, both of us covered in chocolate. As we head ‘en masse’ towards my study (home alone option) only to find a very nice man standing at the door, he required a signature for his delivery.  His face was a picture as I struggled to get the key past the escutcheon and unlock the door. He stood admiring my dexterity, which included a semi limbo whilst cuddling a large heavy jug containing a yellow balloon, drizzled (badly) in chocolate?

He said nothing. I said nothing more than “Thank you, hope you have a lovely Easter”.  The disbelief on his face was a picture of wonderment and he was captivated by the scenario yet too professional to ask. “Oh, err, yes. You too Madam!” said he.  “Oh I’m sure we will” said I in some weird operatic voice. “Now come along Wilson” just before his curiosity piqued,  I turned on my heel only to imagine what he must be thinking.

 

.  …

 

Reasons to be cheerful, part 2?  Imagines the driver explaining all to his wife: ” Well dear….

Tape now procured, balloon secured and gently pushed into jug. That it looks a fright is not a problem as there will be another cage, and the splodges won’t be quite so obvious?  With my chocolate mehndi now washed away, I still smelt like a tarts handbag but….

 

  

 

Balloon No. 2.

Swiftly inflated and subsequently attached from bow to stern, fore and aft in an old copper colander that has two handy carrying handles!  Chocolate melted in microwave, stirring hither an thither, 10 second bursts. We are good to go, stick a few stars and little pearly things over the lumps. No one will notice?  The thought being that the larger cage would have thicker more substantial squiggles but more ‘open-work’,  so as to sit comfortably over the smaller one. The whole thing now began to feel far more promising for the quantitatively larger version?  Same pack of balloons, just more puff, bigger balloon! Sorted.

 

Balloon-atic

Wilson was ‘bad tempered’ (in every sense) his milk chocolate squiggly hat had taken issue, from over processed chocolate.  It seemingly had a will (son) of its own?

“Oh No Wilson!” I growled, just as the Tea Boy came around the corner into the kitchen. Having explained the situation from the day before,  the tea boy much approved of my actions proffering similar chastisement to dear, innocent Wilson.  We were some twenty feet away when Wilson could take no more of this outrage and burst.

A cascade of tiny chocolate confetti shards filled the air. A couverture covered Kitty beyond confused?

 

  

  

 

Seems I’ve invented the chocolate confetti cannon, learned how to give a self-laundering cat a chocolate sugar rush, made a chocolate tiara, filled a delivery mans mind with scary thoughts and same of small grey cat who had only just popped in to socialize and have a light bite of lunch.

 

  

 

For all that and a bit of patchwork, the Egg-stravaganza looked vaguely as anticipated, very, very vaguely and yet it wowed my family locusts who positively hoovered their way through it irrespectively.

 

  

  

  

 

Mr Faberge, would now be both jealous if not a tad speechless too eh?

 

x

 

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