Puddings

After the earliest of nights, I was of course awake at 6. But, it being my assigned no-basketball-Saturday lie-in day, I stubbornly listened to podcasts until a more appropriate hour.

The kids voluntarily (ie without being nagged) did the pre-Dad-coming-home tidy, then there was market shopping, lunch making and (for CarbBoy) car cleaning. In short order Mr B arrived, lunch (including new season Brillat Savarin) and the slow slide into an afternoon of terrace chat in the intermittent sunshine.

The evening brought an unseasonal roast turkey dinner, the bread van with an unexpected job offer and now Strictly catch up. And it seems that CarbBoy has caught the teenage uncontrollable giggle thing (Napoleon's wood?)