Pompous Pilate, our oafish Headteacher, is off to India for Easter, at the taxpayers expense. Somehow this trip is supposed to enhance his leadership skills. This is the expedition he wanted us all to go on. He got NO volunteers. I look forward to seeing the snaps of him, sitting forlornly in front of the Taj Mahal, like a fat, friendless Princess Di. Actually, I am praying that he suffers a terminal case of Dehli-belly, and that he spends his entire week on the crapper of his Bangalore community centre base.
Anyway, I've been doing some mild Spring cleaning. I've moved a few bits and pieces around in the bedroom and have made a charming little dressing table by combining a vintage, car-boot sale mirror with an occasional table. A lovely, elegant corner to put on make-up.
This is a snap of my kitchen (and the pantry door). I've added some rather sweet retro bunting. It reminds me of the B&W pictures I have of my mum and dad at a Colliery street party, celebrating the Queen's coronation.
Supper. Cauliflower Cheese with a side salad of spinach, ham, red onions and croutons ( with walnut oil, honey and mustard dressing). It was very, very lovely. I made two portions, one for tomorrow's supper too. Tragically, whilst I was happily snapping away at my Union Jack bunting, Cyril the lurcher was silently scoffing the other portion. So, I shall have to dine solely on Hotel Chocolat Easter Egg tomorrow. It will be a hardship, but I'll stoically muddle through somehow. It is the British way!