C has been struggling w writing her commentary of a set of paintings which she’s translated the title as “the damning of the holy bread”.   I think it’s probably closer to desecration. She just moaned and turned to me:

“I have a problem. I can’t write about the bread and body thing without it sounding ridiculous to me.”

So she asks me to describe it again, and it strikes me just how cannibalistic it sounds. 

“We should spend every Saturday morning like this”

Clem assume nestles into her dad’s shoulder to contemplate which deep fried rib recipe to use today. 

They have 14 pounds to work with.