It’s the little things

Both good, and bad. They start little and turn big.

Today has involved disaster. N put the cupcake carrier on the hotplate. LK managed to turn the hotplate on. Some time later, we had a hideous stink, a melted cupcake carrier, dried out to totally singed muffins and an extremely upset me. Disproportionately so. Then LK got upset. And lunch turned into a disaster area for about an hour.

Burnt out

N spent naptime trying to remove the carrier from the hotplate. I went for a short, angry, run and achieved a sub 8-minute mile. No idea when I last managed that. N reports most of the carrier is off, and that assuming he’s identified the correct spare part, if he can’t get the rest off, it’s £70 to replace. Plus VAT and postage.

It’s such a little thing, putting stuff on the cooker. But it’s turned into such a big thing. And it could have been huge. There could have been smoke poisoning. Flames. The fire brigade. Hospital. All things we really don’t want.

But, we had a lovely little thing. Yesterday N made me coffee.

Frothy coffee

I felt normal. Proper coffee. With beans. And chocolate. At our superb kitchen table. It made such a difference to my day.



Make do and mend/Me made

N’s socks are disintegrating. This is the problem with using buttersoft yarn for a man who wears, and wears, and wears his socks.


Meanwhile, I made a sweater for LK, from yarn I’ve had for three years.

Yes. The neckline is wonky.

I miscounted the rows on one side of the back neck and only noticed when I took this photo. Life is too short to unravel.

Doesn’t notice.

Besides. She never keeps still.