To do

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That's it, no more kitchen

Dried crushed chilis, dried whole chilis, and dried oregano. What would YOU do with them?

That's right, sprinkle them under the beds.

Linnea and I have spent some time cleaning them up and my nose and chest are streaming as a result. I am so angry I thumped the bed while she was under it sweeping. I've locked the kitchen gate. I assume she chose those jars because they were small enough to smuggle out.

Grr.

Nursery wouldn't mind having her this afternoon, but she's not interested in leaving the house. I may interest her anyway. We have to leave later to get Emer's injection whether she likes it or not.

The smell of it

Earlier this evening, Emer came over and insistently bashed at my thigh as I typed. Eventually, I asked what she wanted, and she took my hand and led me to the kitchen. She pointed at the oven gloves and I gave her one; she pointed again and I gave her another, but she indicated that I should put it on myself.

Then she told me to take the bread out of the oven.

She stood well back, I took it out; it had reached "done to perfection."