Breakfast the Three-Hundred-and-Thirty-Fifth

Home-made bread (toasted) with apricot jam and a pear

There were two slices of the above, but I devoured the first whilst waiting for the kettle to boil.  I proudly showed off my loaf to both my parents over skype. Apparently my need for parental validation has not improved much since the days of coming home from school waving some highly abstract potato-print offering. (Do you suppose schools are still doing that to Maris Pipers, and parents?)

In other news, the tumble drier man came last week, so naturally I have already shrunk one pair of (already slightly too small trousers).