Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Off to sleep, crispy and foil.

1. As we roll the pushchair home, Alec grumbles himself off to sleep

2. I have fried the bacon too much. It's starting to char, and I have to hold the pan under the extractor fan to keep the smoke alarm happy -- but the crumbled pieces stay crispy in our scrambled eggs.

3. Scrumpling the foil from the cooking chocolate.

Done, moon and Irish fairy tales.

1. A meeting that is over by 9.30am. 2. A big full moon is stuck on next door's chimney pots. 3. By my bed is a large and comforting boo...