My day can be divided into pre-bailout horror and post-bailout horror. In the pre-BH part of the day I was a very content little bunny; in the post-BH part - well, words fail me. So I think I'll dwell on the earlier part of the day, in which there were three invaluable simple pleasures - snow, paltime and pancakes.
My friend Orlaith found someone with a shovel to dig her car out of the snow, so I dug out my old reliable Nigella Bites recipe for American pancakes. Having made them a million times, I still can't remember the recipe by heart, so it's a fairly food-covered page in the book.
Cholesterol, meet thy nemesis. There is a major love of butter in our family, I think it must be genetic. I was babysitting my little nephew once and I went into the living room to take a phonecall. When I went back into the kitchen the butter was out of the dish and on the table with small person-shaped handprints on it.
Check out these mugs - I spied them in my parents' house and my mam was delighted when she discovered something new to offload on to me (she's always arriving at my house with random bits of furniture in the car, trying to clear her own house out under the pretext of helping me furnish mine). Loving the seventies-ness of them, apparently they came free with petrol donkies years ago. Remember when they used to give things away with petrol?! And porridge, remember the Flahavans trackkies?! Thankfully there are none of those lying around my parents' house.
I know, I know - I am a VERY efficient woman. If only the economic mess this country is in could be cleared as quickly.