I am saving the biscuits for next month.
Technically, this photo isn’t strictly my moment of happiness, though it was a big part of it.
This was in Fingerprints Cafe, just up our street on the intermittently groovy Queens Road. They have really good coffee- proper Illy brews- and dangerous cakes (hello, lemon-ginger!) and a pleasantly chilled out vibe. This month, however, I’m denying myself the temporary joys of all things cakey and milky, so had to make do with a pair of really lovely espressos and the food section of the Saturday Guardian. This one had recipes for apple cider spelt bread (want!) and baked avocados filled with egg and chorizo (also want!). The bread will have to wait. The eggs will be lunch tomorrow.
What was happy-making was the whole afternoon out.
I had spent the whole morning in the kitchen, grooving away over a hot pot of experimental spicy soup and wrangling a heavily marinated whole chicken into a crock pot, with Thwacky strapped to my front, snoring away. The chilled out afternoon meander was a relatively rare occurrence- just popping into the vintage fair at the school on the corner (the one with the bollards shaped like small children), discovering a hidden neighbourhood garden, then having a lovely chilled out chunk of time over coffee and a huge stack of newsprint. We hadn’t had a mellow day like that since Thwack was born. He was super tolerant of being carted around and then spending a few hours on my lap, being engulfed by broadsheets. Hooray.
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