Come the morning, the milk.

It's great having a milkman. Wake up in the morning, open the front door, and fresh milk is waiting on your doorstep unless it's been stolen in the wee small hours. Cold fresh milk for cereal, for coffee, for everything. No more powdered instant followed by a rapid dash to the cornershop.

Of course there's a downside too. We have to plan our milk consumption a week in advance, and if we happen to be out more than expected, it can mount up. Which is how I ended up with eight pints in the 'fridge this morning. Marvellous.

What do you do with eight pints of milk? LATTES! rice pudding. Which is fine, except that's how I used some of the excess on Wednesday. And there's a limit to how many milk puddings a girl can eat in one week.

So, one vat of cheese sauce became one Aubergine bake
One cheesy vegetable glop
And one salmon pasta bake.
Which left me with just this much milk in the 'fridge
and this lined up on the doorstep.
Anyone for dinner? These are the times I could do with a husband; I'm sure he could eat more custard and semolina than I can. And then after the meal, he could deal with this little lot
whilst I sat back with a glass of wine put the girls to bed.

Ah well. Milk overstock dramatically reduced, calories burned during washing up replaced (with interest) by more of the pasta and a rather nice Toblerone which insisted on accompanying me home from the shops yesterday . One girl in bed, one sitting here giggling at me, and the advantage of being single is that once she's in bed I get to kick back and relax with a good book instead of having to make conversation put the house back together.

Tia