So delicious. Easy (just takes a little time). And pleasant to behold.
Recipe.
Appearance should not be mistaken for truth; narrow human doctrines, that only tend to elate and magnify a few, should not be substituted for the world-redeeming creed of Christ. There is — I repeat it — a difference; and it is a good, and not a bad action to mark broadly and clearly the line of separation between them. The world may not like to see these ideas dissevered, for it has been accustomed to blend them; finding it convenient to make external show pass for sterling worth — to let white-washed walls vouch for clean shrines. It may hate him who dares to scrutinise and expose — to rase the gilding, and show base metal under it — to penetrate the sepulchre, and reveal charnel relics: but hate as it will, it is indebted to him.
--Preface (2nd Edition)
In my world... Laird Brodick Buchanan just married Lady Gillian. King John found his treasure, cleared Gillian's father's name, and Lord Baron was rightfully beheaded. Laird Ramsey just proposed to Bridgid. Does it get any better than that? Aye, I think not. (can't recommend that one for... certain reasons.)
Also, Samantha and Nathanial just spent an exhilirating afternoon picking rasperries. HELLO! I would turn down a law partnership, too. The Undomestic Goddess.
Tomorrow I shall take Jill to see Mamma Mia and we will laugh hysterically and sing the wrong words to all the songs.
Lord Bryan will be taking the midnight Greyhound and arriving at 6am. We will kiss passionately and then go out to breakfast (I said that out loud, didn't I?). Then he will slay the dragon and we will return to our manor beneath the shadow of the Red Cliffs hills.
Life is wonderfully fabulous medieval romance. I wonder, did they have eyeshadow back then?