Once upon a time, there was a 39 year old with blonde highlights who liked eating porridge. She liked it so much that she didn't let the three famous, porridge-eating bears have any, and they took to eating shoots and leaves. She liked her porridge made with milk, and she liked to think of the blackhouse dwellers of the Outer Hebrides turning in their graves. She liked it with milk and she liked it with stewed fruit and then - sacrilege! - she liked it with a dollop of half-fat crème fraîche and maple syrup on top. And lo, it was yummy, and she wished that Scotland was cold all year round so she could eat it every day.
3 comments:
Where is everyone else?!
I'm still here, but it's a bit cold and lonely these days. I foresee a revival in Fatfighters United in about eight weeks, n'est-ce pas?
Sooner than that, methinks - it's called a "pretox", according to my copy of Red, whereby you are virtuous right up to Christmas Day in order to pig out when you want to. Anyone care to join me?
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