What an interesting evening?!

I make cakes, I love making cakes.  I also love learning about making cakes.  I've met a huge number of Irish Cakemakers recently and one of them encouraged me (and others, I'm not that special) to go along and see what the Dublin Sugarcraft Guild are all about and perhaps join. 

So I did.  So did Ger, fellow cake maker and partner in crime.  

I nearly didn't make it due to an unprecedented amount of red lights but it's amazing how quickly you can get from Kinsealy to Blackrock when you need to.  Sent Ger a text (whilst idling at another red light) telling her to go in and baggsie us some seats.  She did.  Down the back.  Not because we were dossers but because the 'original  members' were all parked up the front.

A lovely lady made a nice convertible cake, it was a good demo but she didn't talk very much throughout.  Probably for a number of reasons, she was, er, elderly and she had a cold.  The thing is . . if you don't talk everyone else will.  So there she was, doing her thing and there everyone else was . . . yakking away not paying the blindest bit interest in her.  Other than to argue across each other over the cost of alcohol (isoprophyl stuff NOT vodka).

Then came the highlight of the evening.  

A row.

And proof that democracy is wasted on some.

Basically, I learned tonight, the Guild has become too big for the room it's in.  So they need to move to bigger premises.  Makes sense right?  I mean, health and safety and all that jazz says you can't have that many people, knives and cups of hot tea floating around without someone getting hurt.  Also, it's a bloody stuffy room and you can't really see what's what unless you get brought up front (whereupon you keep catching the eye of your partner in crime and cackling quietly to yourself, everyone must have thought I was some kind of simpleton).  So, the 'for moving' women did their bit and made their point of why the Guild should move to Tallaght, great premises, tea facilities and . . . can't remember but it's not really relevant.  The new place is bigger and better and on the M50 which suits most people.

Then yer wan, T., got up and well, basically she's not going anywhere because she set up the Guild.  In Blackrock, don't you know?, and there was no way she was moving to, deep intake of breath, tallaght (small 't' because you could tell that's all she deemed it worthy of).

So they voted.

15 to stay put in the small parish hall in Blackrock and 28 to move to Tallaght.

Now, in normal land such a vote would mean that the 'nay's' lost and the 'yay's' won and off ye go to Tallaght but not here.  Not in Blackrock.  Nuh-uh!!!

The vote is counted and the chair (who up until that point had pretty much kept her arse on one as opposed to acting like one) said "So ladies, what'll we do?"  WHATWHATWHAT?????  What do you mean 'what'll we do?', you lost the vote, so you move, right?  Nope!  The Blackrock massive ain't moving for no-ong and especially nowhere like tallaght.

Really fucking annoying thing is that tallaght is only around the corner, really, from Blackrock once you're in a car.  Fucking miles away from me.  Bitches.  

The leader of the grey brigade then got into her roomy VW and drove off.  I mean, she could fit four other auld wans in the car and drive them to . . Tallaght and .............ARGH.

Long and short of it?  Auld wans don't believe in Democracy.  

Arses.