"I do realise this is a Heston Blumenthal recipe," I say, taking a pretzel out of the cupboard and biting into it, "but is that leg of lamb supposed to be on fire?"

"FUCK" 

"That's a 'no', then?"

---

Today I have dressed as minnie mouse and moved slowly through the house, thoughtfully reading a play and occasionally eating biscuits. My Father, on the other hand, having been instructed to decorate the exterior of the house has, well... decorated the exterior of the house, whilst my mother has dug up the flower beds in the front garden, wearing a ridiculously oversized sun hat and her pyjamas. 

At the same time, the family across the road have participated in the most competitive egg hunt I have ever witnessed. For 2 hours, I observed toddlers being cheered on, praised and berated by their overly enthusiastic parents as they raced from the tree with the bird feeder in to the front doorstep before finally lifting the newspaper on the garden table to find yet another chocolate encased in foil. At one point, I definitely saw one pensioner point her grandson in the direction of the next prize and although I considered reporting them for foul play, I decided against it. Who am I to judge?

And finally, some art, that is not only relevant to the time of year, but edible. YUM:

Farm cake. Omnomnomnom.

HAPPY EASTER!