Imagine a freshly baked loaf of French bread just out of the oven. You can smell the aroma from the house. Everyone’s nose follows the smell. There, in the middle of the counter is the loaf of hot, French bread with a dish of sweet, fresh butter next to it, just waiting…. No fake butter, no margarine, no chemicals, the real thing. Diets forgotten for tonight. French bread and butter. That’s all I need to be happy.
sounds scumprumpcious (spelling). I used to share a house with a bunch of folks, one of whom made bread for the house once a week (his chore). He had to make a small extra loaf because none of us could wait til the other loaves were cool to dig in.
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Now I’m craving hot French bread with real butter. Delicious!
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me too!!!
Warm wishes, Laurie https://hibernationnow.wordpress.com
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