Mozart . Bread . Butter

I'm having a very fine day...really I am.
It's lovely.
Very Fall-ish.
A might grey.
Overcast.
Temps are a tad on the cool side, but not enough to warrant wearing a jacket.
Not a hint of wind.

A fine day...to run errands, meet up with friends, do chores, post to the blog, be crafty, play Mozart's Requiem extra loud in the car whilst driving...
Before day is done, I will have accomplished all of these things.
Nice.

Morning errand run. Before heading home, I decided to stop at the supermarket to 'pick up a few things'.

I walked by the fresh bread aisle.
Caught a whiff.
The latest and greatest artisan bread offerings were fresh out of the oven.
Mmmmmmmmmmm - that irresistible aroma of freshly baked bread.
I approached the display and could feel the heat coming off those brown bags. I could not resist. I bought a loaf. Mind you, no one is home this weekend to share in the eating of this big ol' loaf of freshly baked DUTCH CRUST bread. It'll be me myself and nobody else. This I knew and yet I succumbed.

I rushed home (Requiem blasting), brought the bread in and didn't bother to bring in the rest of the groceries just yet. I cut a huge slice, slathered it with softened sweet butter, sat back and savoured it.
It was good. I mean good. As in sinfully good.
The bread is delicious, the butter enhanced the flavor.
Then I sliced another piece of bread and enjoyed it too.
I'm on my third slice now. Feeling a teensy bit of guilt.
By slice four, I will have deemed myself downright disgusting and half the loaf will still be there to tempt me further.
I will vacillate between pleasure and guilt.
Ah - such is life.
Such is Mozart, come to think of it.

A fine day indeed ~
Mozart.
Bread.
Butter.
Pleasure with a sprinkling of guilt.
It don't get much better than this.