A Red Kind of Day...

Hello, all. It's Meg. I'm terribly sorry for dropping off the edge of the universe, dear readers. Work has been keeping me busy, as has re-reading the first six Harry Potter books in preparation for the release of the seventh and final book (I'm halfway through book 3 right now...will I be able to finish between 1000-2000 pages by Saturday?). Also, I have acquired a shiny new Mac laptop (his name is Squishy), and I've been spending a lot of my spare time converting from my PC ways. This has all led to very little cooking going on.
However, I did a fair bit of cooking in June, so here comes part of my backlog.

As I did last year, this year I made Dad's birthday cake. Instead of busting out my Nigella cookbooks, I allowed my father to make a request. He asked for a family favorite: Red Waldorf Cake. It's named after the hotel where it is said to have originated, according to family legend, and some distant cousin alledgedly paid 125 dollars in order to acquire the recipe. I have no clue how true this story is, but the cake IS delicious, so it doesn't really matter.
I started baking in the afternoon, happily mixing the odd red batter which smelled strongly of chocolate. I daydreamed about the final product on a pretty cake platter, covered in snow-white buttercream, and tried my best not to salivate.
Then the doorbell rang. I had gotten a package, as it turns out, and it contained my new red iPod. It couldn't have come on a more colour-appropriate day.