domestic Goddess

Oh dear.  Tiny Clanger has fallen into the soup well. She won’t be able to get out until Anniemay makes a Soup Dragon. (I can’t believe I’m writing this).  

Anniemay is in full domestic-goddess mode at the moment.  It’s a phase she goes through every couple of years.  I suspect close proximity of offspring has something to do with it.  

Having quickly (to Dan and Kelly’s delight) knocked off, not one, but two Clangers (first Small and  thenTiny) she donned her apron this morning and baked.  Again, not once but twice. The kitchen is full of the heady aroma of chocolate brownies and apple and cinnamon oaty bars.

I’m excused cooking duties today to watch the final stage of the Tour de France while she makes a full roast dinner - nut roast, plus her special roast potatoes (Anniemay is queen of the roast spud), Yorkshire pudding and all the trimmings.  

And then, like a fiery comet that briefly lights up the night sky, it’ll be gone all too quickly as she gets back into training for her next big bike ride and the gym and the photography course and ……. and the kitchen will once again be mine.  All mine.