My friend Alex appeared at my door the other day. "Can I borrow some scissors?" He said. "Of course!" I said. "Can I come in?" He said. "Only if you promise not to talk to me about Jesus. Do you want a cookie?" Alex peered over at the bench. "Those aren't cookies," he said. "Yes, they are!" I said gleefully. I handed him a cookie. "Guess the flavour." He took a bite. "Lemon... . . .
It's been raining solidly for two days in Brisbane. Cups of tea consumed: around 24. Time spent in pyjamas under blanket on the couch: at least six hours. Brownies baked: 9 (12, really, if I had cut them into smaller, more sensible slices, but that's not my vibe). I feel like a brownie recipe is something every baking blog needs to have up its sleeve. Just like every good bartender needs . . .
Christmas is usually a quiet time of year for me. Half the extended family is in England; the other (much more substantial) half is in New Zealand. Dad's in Papua New Guinea. That just leaves me, my brother and my Mum, and my guy Tony on some Christmases. And then sometimes we don't even get my bro due to hospital work schedules. We're tiny, but I kind of like that. It's all about relaxing in good . . .