Literally, really. I cooked a little fry for my very hung-over hubby who fell into bad company last night (the wrecking Irish crew celebrated a birth and one of their own coming second in a golf competition that Paul McGinley presided). You can guess which one they were more excited about.
As he was gingerly sipping his coffee this morning hubby said he wants to go AF too. I said I’d support him, but I know this would not last. He can moderate and he believes he can moderate, whereas I don’t even want to think about it. But I’ll take any AF time he clocks.
Sooooo , feels a bit like summer already … I am serving coffee on the terrace … French roast for most of us, decaf for sugar, Evco for TND (and Blondie …. Where is she?) and a big pot of tea for Pap. No more sweets and treats, I want no more talk of bear buns.
Have a super duper ultra great week, Fabbies Abbies!!!
:baaah::baaah::baaah:
Comment