sugar and spice

Well, that in my face self-righteous twat picking on me for her assumptions that I ate nothing but dessert 24/7 is well on the way to making her fictions come true. Gone is the green tea and fruit regimine, or the tiny portions of chicken and rice. Last night we had chicken pot pie, because it's winter, and, to use up the puff pastry, Himself made strawberry and rhubarb pasties, which well, they did have fruit in them, please note, but they were so damn good. I haven't had a dessert like that since I used to attempt apple turnovers in school (which surely makes it a sometimes food, at least, Himself laughed too long and too loudly over the idea that it would surely qualify as a sometimes food if I'd not had anything like since high school).

I am rolling and polling about the place today, though, for shame. Still, I needed cheering up. Maybe that was the idea. They kept talking dessert and I folded like a house of cards, cracked like an egg, etc, etc. Mission accomplished. Oh, but sweet, sweet dessert.
( media: snips and snails )