It's the change in pace that I appreciate so much during the holidays. When you have very little ones, holiday or no holiday, life continues apace. But now my boys are both of school age, they don't need to much persuading to throttle back and take things a little more sedately.
We have all the time in the world to put double cream in a jam jar and shake and shake (and shake) until the alchemy of butter making takes place.
And to eat the butter, with croissants and strawberry jam, as a very late breakfast, still loafing about in our pyjamas.
And then to notice that the strawberry jam is running out rather rapidly. Plenty of time to put on waterproofs and squelch round the footpaths behind our house to pick teeny tiny cherry plums for the next batch of jam.
To decide that pizza for lunch sounds good. To slowly weigh and measure and mix and knead and let the dough rest. To see if there are a couple of ripe tomatoes outside the back door and to wash the basil really well to get rid of the greenfly.