Edible Proof

Up early this morning. It's half-term this week. My good lady had her birthday on Monday, and most of this week has been very laid back and indulgent. Late nights, waking up late, leisurely steaming bowls of porridge for breakfast.

But this morning I was up early. The cats were let in, their ears freezing, pads icy as they each stood up and rubbed a goodmorning scenting cheek up to my outstretched hands.

I read some blogs, then took up a morning cuppa to the birthday girl. I needed to feel that I was going to do something constructive with the day. That something was baking bread.

By Midday the loaves were cooling, and Bernard had warmed up next to the oven. The mists were clearing, and I had edible proof of my morning's work.