That's right my friends, I have reached the pinnacle of motherhood and here I sit on the successful jelly maker throne, laughing manically and dropping little silver cake decorating balls down upon those less fortunate than me. Suck it up, losers.
After this recent jelly disaster, I was given some jelly making advice by the women at my Thursday evening class. Apparently, jelly packets lie, and instead of following the instructions and adding cold water to the mix to make it up to 1 pint, the seasoned jelly maker adds enough cold water to take it to just over three quarters of a pint. What amazed me was that they all seemed to know this and were nodding sagely at these words of wisdom. It's one of those things that Only Mums Know (there are a lot of these: How to remove mould from a rubber bath mat, what muslin squares are for etc etc).
Now I too have The Knowledge, I am passing it on to you. Use it well.
My jelly cat is brilliant. It resembles a cat for a start. It's firm yet wobbly, it's features are still intact. You know what? I might go wild and make up a lime version and mash it all up with a fork to make it look like it's lying on grass. I could do that, because I'm that skilled now. Little flowers hand crafted from marzipan and tinted with food colouring to scatter amongst the jelly grass? Yeah, I could probably make some of those while sprinkling hundreds and thousands on fairy cakes with the other hand and one eye shut. If I wasn't so tormented by the threat of nut allergies that is. But I could. Hell yeah.