When the moon hits your eye...

... like a big pizza pie, that's amore.

Mr B is never one to come back from a holiday without something totally bizarre.

On one holiday he bought a field.

I suppose I should think myself lucky that on a holiday in Italy a few years ago it was merely a pizza pan the size of a field. It has resided ever since on the top shelf in his office, shown here next to a couple of sets of books that also live up there, to give a sense of scale.

It has never been used in anger (I think Mr B was somewhat disappointed at my lack of ambition when I pointed out it wouldn't fit in our oven). I'm sure one day we'll find a more fitting use for it.

He's on holiday unsupervised just now. I'm nervous.