It has all been delightful and I am too full of sugar to contemplate my own shortcomings - slash - mortality. My hilarious eldest son made me one of his special breakfast plates:
And a book on how to make my own special breakfast plates. It is quite strict. It's like living with Nicky Haslam sometimes. I reproduce some of it here, in case you also wish to make your own breakfast plate.
"The little book of beautiful plates"
This says "written by me, drawned by me, special thanks to my mum who wanted a book of cool plates. But she got this..."
"You should always favour round/curved shapes"
"A semi-circular shape is sometimes acceptable"
"Biscuits should be partially, not entirely, superposed"
"Add fruit, so the plate seems more 'healfy'"
"Include a hot and a cold drink for contrast"
"Serve in a large plate, so it does not seem crowded"
Apart from this I did not get a single thing on my fantasy list and it did not matter in the slightest.
(This gift from Prog Rock was profoundly strange, admittedly:
it contained an old, empty perfume atomiser that is impossible to refill. Might be good as a pot for keeping pencils in?)
I had a lovely day, ate too much, got mildly tipsy and my lovely family made me an actual homemade lemon drizzle cake and it was TOTALLY EDIBLE. I think I look a bit like the chicks on the top right now:
Slightly wonky but unbowed.
I am going to lie down now because all my blood flow must be directed to my stomach and thought is impossible. THANK YOU for sticking with this stupid odyssey and thank for your all your kindness. May your capybara overlords be ever merciful.