Not much to say except that during Easter of 2008, I wanted to make Hot Cross Buns. And so I did. And they were good.
What’s going on here? My two youngest are toasting marshmallows in the kitchen over a candle.
“It’s okay,” they said, “daddy’s been letting us do this all afternoon.”
(Don’t worry. They’re well supervised.)
My two littlest were chatting and carrying on as if around a real campfire, but without all the hassle.