Almost market day. Seven hours in the commercial kitchen today, and lots of bagging and heat sealing and labelling tonight, with extra hands making light work and tea and good company!
One crate of bikkies at a time suddenly looking sellable. Incredibly exciting. 'Cept I can't stand up straight anymore. Wretched old fogie.
The mammoth clothes mountain of clean washing I cannot seem to get around to folding and that I (cough) may have lost a small child in yesterday.
Sniffer dogs were at the ready.
Unnecessary, in the end.
Really, I cherish her independence.
I love that she gets herself breakfast in the morning.
I do not understand Weetbix spread with butter, but I believe she inherited this from her grandmother on my side, so OK.
Not really so OK with the entire box on the table. She's lucky she's so damn cute. And that I am so significantly not a morning person that you can get away with anything while I fumble around with kettle and cup.
What's happening on your mountaintop?