Anders is away

Miss him so much, especially at meal times. Today, served myself the sad remains of a bouillabaisse, after all the fish had been removed by hungry children. Had to complement the meagre soup with 2 nourishing white russians (with ice cubes cunningly replaced with frozen raspberries). Will now go find inspiration in "A tree grows in Brooklyn" which has already given me excellent advice on how to run a household on little more than stale bread.