Today has been one of those perfect autumn days – cloudless blue sky, crisp sunshine, and the trees every shade of green, gold and russet. The sort of day that inspires poets to raptures of lyricism.*
It was the ideal day for lunch in the garden, and for trying the “first loaf”. Verdict: definitely bread and rather scrumptious. Next step: focaccia.
*And just in case you were wondering what rhymes with autumn, here is my – tongue in cheek – contribution to the canon of seasonal poetry, from the Tom Lehrer school of couplets: “How very, very pretty is the autumn // What a lot of leaves, we ought to sort ’em.” I await a call from the Pulitzer judges any day now.