Hubby's incessant calls from work, yes, on a Sunday, took all the pleasure out of a late lie-in, so I decided to get started on breakfast at eight-thirty; sacrilege on a weekend *grrr*  Out came the pumpkin I'd bought about two weeks ago, and had left by its lonesome under the ironing board. Oh, the joys of cramped apartment life; my tiny, three bedroomed kingdom for a proper pantry. The microplane grater fell off its hook and onto the pumpkin, as my baby walked in, all tousled hair and sleep...


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