Sunday Mornings

Sunday mornings in our house was open-house and devonshire tea time. My birth mom (Roma) would make batches of fresh scones and these were served with lashings of cream and jam (often home-made).

Now I have done extensive research on the ability to make scones and can conclusively say that the 'scone making gene' skips generations. I have a dozen families I can lift up as proof but please believe me, it's true. If your grandmother didn't have it, then neither will you.

I can make an incredible pumpkin scone but regular scones ... well. Actually I have been told they are just fine but when you have had one of Roma's - big and fluffy and steaming hot and with their little crust on the outside and all 'round perfect - you soon learn that 'fine' just, well, isn't lol.

Anyway, folks would begin to rock up sometime after 9 and the last would leave sometime after 12. There could be 10 - 20 people there on any particular morning. There would be lots of chatter, mugs of coffee, cups of tea, tinkles of laughter and plates and plates of scones.