Lammas

The traditional feast day of "Hlaef-Mass", as Hnaef is liable to call it when in Olde English mode.

In the days of old, this was a celebration of the first wheat harvest of the year.  Everybody would bring a newly-baked loaf of bread to church, and the vicar's wife (post-reformation - it would be "concubine" before) - would be making bread-and-butter pudding for the next six months.

To mark this important cross-quarter day we all brought a different kind of bread to the different Occasions today.  Croissants for this morning's Pouring Out of Beakers (although we only just prevented Drayton from throwing them in the Pit of Cursing, where the beakers are broken in line with our swine flu policy).

Then bagels at Chanting.  That was nice, although they'd have been better with a bit of cream cheese.

Baguettes at Mid-Day Breathing.

White sliced at the three o'clock prayers for the rain to stop in Birmingham.

Brown wholemeal, with the bits in, provided by Agnus at Evenchant.

And oatmeal rolls, with even more bits in, at tonight's edition of "A Bard at Bedtime".

You know, I've kind of had enough bread now.  In fact, I can barely move.  Bread is now officially removed from the Beaker menu until Michaelmas at the earliest.