Ahhh yes, its Sunday morning, time to get up and sit at the window and watch the sun set. Listen to the sounds of Mummy Charles moving around in the kitchen. Ohhhhshe is cooking up something. Whats that I smell, corn meal porridge with a stick of cinnamon, fresh milk from Uncle Cromwells cow, and sugar cane sugar to give it that sweetness that can come from island cane fields. Now my eight year old stomach is rumbling, because now that over powering smell of coconut bakes frying up. I can hear the pop and crackle of the heating oil accompanied by Mummy Charles singing. 
Now my stomach is going crazy, like a volcano had erupted in there, I could not wait, nooo, I had to head to that kitchen, sit at the dining room table, hope and pray that she would take pity on me and give me a sample, just one small sample before I set the table for breakfast,
BOMBASTIC NATION 