When I first discovered hot buttered toast I caught a glimpse of heaven.
I was 15 and visiting friends.
I had only been allowed stork margerine at home and had grown to tolerate it.
But that was a poor reflection of the real thing.
Now I knew heaven:
Standing by the toaster, with tea in a mug and hot, butter-dripping toast.
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 4:18 PM UTC
When I first discovered hot buttered toast I caught a glimpse of heaven.
I was 15 and visiting friends.
I had only been allowed stork margerine at home and had grown to tolerate it.
But that was a poor reflection of the real thing.
Now I knew heaven:
Standing by the toaster, with tea in a mug and hot, butter-dripping toast.
