Solo celebration

This is what my solitary breakfast looked like before I poured maple syrup over it at two in the afternoon: crispy bacon from Theo, our butcher, and a particularly decadent version of French toast made with slices of pound cake instead of bread. I know, I know.

T has gone to London to bring the children to visit their godmother and grandparents. They'll be away about a month. That's four weeks - four weeks! - of child-free bliss. So you see, I had to celebrate accordingly.