Oh, those evil fuzzbutts

[desperance]

I was sitting up here quietly working, earning us an honest home-baked crust; they meanwhile were downstairs raiding the fridge. I don't know how they got it open - blind fuzzy luck, I suspect.

Total known score: the heel of a ham, the heel of an Italian sausage and two eggs. My lunch, in short.

I am currently stewing carrot-greens in butter, to see if they might make an acceptable filling for an omelette. How sad is that?