Buckets of flowers

In your best Cockney: "Summer flars!" Some actually from the terrace.

Rather squished, in an old maple syrup bucket.

Suddenly I am reminded of a craving. I used to work late nights at an Eritrean restaurant. I'd come home starving. But I wanted very simple food. There was a phase of cooking polenta for myself - the soft kind, then pouring a lake of maple syrup into the middle of it, and surrounding it with a glacier of milk. I'd eat that, at 1am.

And now I want it...