Empty cup of coffee with crum b s
from my auntie’s hot cross buns.
You have got to think about it
to notice how much you enjoy it.
The days abroad everything seems so nice and different, even though you are drinking the same coffee brand.
It is funny how all the cakes our grand mothers make are the best. They are the smell of our childhood, the flavour of our youth.
Those days, when we couldn’t wait till the cake was cool. And even though right out of the oven, we longed for a piece.
The taste is specific to that time, that special place. Grannys must be cherrished the way sweet cherries complet a perfect home made bakewell tart.