Proustian pancake

Joined a blogging 101 course around new year, which kicked off yesterday. First assignment was to write this post for my other site. I've never really been happy with that site, and am determined to up its game this year.

In other news: well there wasn't much. A quiet day's work, accompanied by cats. Beth went with Lorraine to school, and they did some drama at lunchtime. I worked and I walked. And bought vegetables and made a chicken casserole for the ladies when they returned.

Definitely light at the end of the tunnel of this current assignment, and I feel far less oppressed than I did a few weeks ago. I also have the prospect of taking this Friday off to stay with mum, albeit for us to go to Diane's funeral. Two days the following week there's a minibreak with Lorraine. All work and precious little play is making me a very dull indeed.

While Lorraine went out to do Pilates I did another walk listening to podcasts. All home, and Beth cooked us some immaculate pancakes, eaten with a sprinkling of sugar and a good squish of lemon, on account of it being Shrove Tuesday. A nostalgic taste, and the little crunch of lemony sugar took me back to remembrances of pancakes past.


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