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.

Breakfast, drift and pour.

1. I start to say no because I've already eaten breakfast and I don't want the work of cooking French toast for everyone else -- but...