The oven door dropped open. The sudden heat skimming across my glasses as my eyes blinked furiously back at the steamy prankster. Hands stuffed into their padded gloves padded away at the steam reaching to grab the molten tray of crumbly golden nuggets, the latest in Friday night gourmet dining. Golden crisp and ready alongside a helping of cisp fires. The oven door closed with its familiar metal clang as I skipped to collect a plate and chicken salt…

On re-reading this, I had to laugh at the “padded gloves padded away”. I obviously had a word stuck in my head and went with it. My intention was to talk about a lasagne, pie or any other type of baked dish that you could quarter and serve up. Allowing the intention of my writing to take its time rather than rush to really fit the word “quarter” into it takes an element of stress out of the process. I will say, I clearly got distracted and started writing about nuggets because that's what my children are loving at the moment. It's still technically a meal you can quarter up but I definitely lost the original intention on my way through.

That's okay, because this is a first draft and if I want to go back and focus on the pie or lasagne I can do that.