Fresh Bread

I woke with the dawn chorus for some reason this morning and had already made our first cup of tea before 6am. Murphy’s not an early riser and seemed less than impressed with the situation, bless him, he reluctantly dragged himself off his blanket to follow me around. I’d got the washing machine and breadmaker both running before I took him to the park. I came home to the lovely smell of freshly baked bread, you can’t beat it.