Yes, it's pancake day.
It's pa- pa- pa- pa- pa- pancake day.
|On the left as you look at it, I remember|
aching to look like that as a child. I even went
so far as to look at a fancy dress costume of
French maid once in Sixth Form.
A couple of times, never bought the costume
This year I had been toying with the idea of doing it myself, and Tilly surprised me by saying that the children didn't actually like pancakes, indeed the last few years they tossed some but ate none, she told me. She was thus aiming for some Scotch pancake decorating on the Tuesday afternoon. I was confused, given our history of it, and so began my own preparations. I got in enough to make some pancakes, took Tilly at face value and assumed the children would help make the mixture, maybe flip one, and I'd eat them.
|More crepe than your standard US style pancake|
|Alas, not these.|
I do have some with
butterflies on though and
I do love them.
In other news, perhaps more fitting for this blog, I haven't worn boxers very much. I've worn them just six times since the New Year, four of which was in chastity when I was attempting to stop the chafing getting worse (I have three pairs that have a tight pouch like effect). It is most comfortable, and quite nice, something that I have tried before but now there is no guilt. I can wear knickers, wash them, dry them and then wear them again. Fantastic. Something so simple, so apparently harmless, and it's taken a divorce to realise. Oh, yeah, the Decree Nisi comes into effect sometime over the next couple of weeks, then I have to wait six weeks and one day until the Absolute - that's how divorce works here in the UK at any rate.