It's 3pm and as I sit here typing I can hear the drip drop, drip drop of the rain as it falls from our eves onto the garden beds below.  Sparrows sit, feathers glistening, in the top of the tree whose sorry branches seem to wrap themselves, like fingers, over the top of the fence at the back of our garden.  A soft blanket of grey cloud hangs in the sky.  It is peaceful and still and while my babes sleep I'm eager to share with you another of my recipes.