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My grandfather had curious habits. He would butter the loaf as it stood on its end and then cut a wafer-thin slice, still with the loaf end-upwards. He cut at a succession of angles, and the bread was left with a fan-shaped series of markings from the knife.
It was always un-sliced bread from the bakers, not the sliced stuff in a packet. My grandmother would take me in there sometimes. The bread was oven warm and cuddly. Once she bought me a mini-loaf to eat on the way home. I told anyone who'd listen that I'd eaten a whole loaf of bread.
It was always un-sliced bread from the bakers, not the sliced stuff in a packet. My grandmother would take me in there sometimes. The bread was oven warm and cuddly. Once she bought me a mini-loaf to eat on the way home. I told anyone who'd listen that I'd eaten a whole loaf of bread.
