Hot crossless buns

Just couldn't be bothered piping this morning. I think I know what we will be having for morning tea today.

In other news, the kids have been doing utterly self-directed Easter-based craft and narrative games this morning. Ivy is the Easter bunny (of course) and Hazel is seventeen-year-old named Less, which is short for Allessatif. Less has been a long-term member of Hazel's pantheon of alternative identities.

So far the bunny and Less have cut out and decorated about twenty paper Easter eggs, then paraded around doing unfathomable but allegedly necessary Easter jobs for an hour. Now they are drawing together in Hazel's room.

This is sounding a lot like one of those "my life is perfect and here are the pics to prove it" posts. In the interests of balance, know this:

This morning I threw out my latest fermenting effort. It was dill pickles, and I have a feeling that using dill from the freezer is a bad idea. The cucumbers and the oak leaves were fresh and so was the garlic, but the frozen dill made the pickling liquid go milky coloured and there was mold starting too. Luckily, the pickles I served to my family yesterday were from the FIRST batch.

What happens when goldfish are given cooked broccoli

They nibble it until it looks like coral.

All laid out

My new mixer arrived!

I am disproportionately excited.

First figs of the 2014 harvest

Three have been pecked,  and two are unblemished.

My daughter is totally a creative genius

This is a boastful post,  just be warned.

Ivy uncovered an unopened packet of modelling clay,  and she asked for help getting started. I found her a board to work on,  and snipped off some of the clay.

After working hard for at least six minutes,  she produced this truly amazing object. Its title is "Three rocks, squashed together".

I think that it had been influenced by a work we enjoyed last weekend, at the Lorne Sculpture Biennale. Ivy and I went for a bush walk and saw a little dark green sculpture made by a wombat,  entitled "Seven cuboid turds, lightly pressed together and left in the middle of the path,  crawling with little flies".

Ivy's inspiring work resonates with the wombat's, building a dialogue across time, space, and species.