So, I taught German. I actually taught German. It was fine, I was surprised by how quickly I got back into it seeing as how I haven't spoken any german (bar the odd word) since my finals. I also got told how natural I sounded, which was nice, even if I don't believe it. I had my first english tutee as well, for which I had to use quite a lot of dutch as he's only young, bless. But it went fine, and I used my tutoring money to buy a duvet (pronounce, jewvet), so I am no longer huddling under blankets like some throwback to the war. Sadly, the only duvet covers that were in my price range were hideous and garish, so I am currently averting my gaze from the blindingly-patterned monstrosity on the other side of my room.
Yesterday, I went to an international dinner party so made some scones. Well, I tried to make some scones. I carefully metricified my grandma's scone recipe and headed off to the supermarket where fail was heaped upon fail as not only did they not sell caster sugar, but I got caught singing along to Gareth Gates by a suitably-amused shop assistant. I don't know what's worse, the fact that I got caught, or the fact that I knew all the lyrics to "Anyone of us". Appropriately red-faced, I headed home and successfully concocted a gloopy mass of dough resembling nothing like what scone dough should but I whacked it in the oven and hoped for the best, all the while receiving helpful messages from my mum such as "Eek", "Why are you making something you don't know how to make?" and finally, when the results turned out better than expected "Huzzah!". The scones (with jam and freshly whipped cream) were by far the most popular thing at the party, being wolfed down in a matter of minutes. All in all, tres successful.
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