This tiny little narcissi (the photo doesn’t do its size justice, it’s literally two inches tall), has braved the snow and the gales to burst into life in a bare and stoney patch of dirt outside our house.
It reminded me of my favourite John Masefield poem, that has seen me through good times and bad times alike, so I thought I would share.
I have seen flowers come in stony places,
And kind things done by men with ugly faces,
And the gold cup won by the worst horse at the races,
So I trust too.
Happy Sunday everyone xx
Whilst I still feel like the back of my jaw is trying to crawl out of my face via my ear, nothing keeps my appetite away for long, not even the removal of a wisdom tooth: My husband (affectionately) calls me The Gannet for my ability to guzzle down vast quantities of food no matter what the circumstance.
So this morning we’ve had toasted english breakfast muffins, with lashings of vegan spread and portobello mushrooms fried in olive oil with an inordinate amount of sea salt (don’t judge me, sometimes you just got to embrace the bad stuff) and a good two handfuls of thyme. Yum! I would post the recipe but really there is no need, you have everything you need in that first sentence.
So here is me circling for breakfast:
And here is the finished product:
English breakfast muffins with portobello mushrooms and thyme – done
Happy Sunday everyone!