Day 296. A house is not a home.

I love Dionne Warwick and A House is not a Home is one of her finest. I couldn't get this out of my head as I made my way to Home House this morning, to take part in the Women in Digital networking breakfast, humming it as I walked up to the front door in a way that was reminiscent of my Dad's whistling when he's in the middle of something. Age related or genetics? I'm going for the latter but the number of parental traits I seem to have adopted as my own recently makes me question the validity of that choice.

Day 282. Breakfast of kings.

Kings Road that is. Early for a meeting I headed into Megan's Deli and Restaurant for breakfast and could quite happily have stayed through 'til lunch. Plenty of choice and an array of cakes that could easily tempt Mr Kipling to leave Rugby and head south of the border. After almost 6 months on decaf coffee you can imagine the effect this cup of rocket fuel had. And me, so quiet usually.

Day 179. Good habits.

A slower than usual start for the adults today so we suggested Bea lay the table for breakfast. She put us to shame. An assortment of cereals, our own dried fruit mix, fresh fruit, yoghurt and juice awaited us and rather than the fruit presented in its shop container she used cut glass bowls and dishes.

Day 136. Breakfast for one.

Equals bliss. No interruptions and the chance to spend 30 minutes catching up on some reading and actually sit still; enjoying a pot of coffee rather than moving my cup around the house until the coffee goes cold. It was only fruit, cereal and a slice of toast but I savoured every mouthful. Back to reality tomorrow.