Home made Hot Cross buns have become a bit of a tradition for us in recent years because they’re really soo GOOD, a little reward for holding out for 40 days (whatever it was) and a reminder of what Easter’s all about. Far too many for us to manage in house, most on the Estate got one and as I was in London for a concert on Maundy Thursday, some ended up in Brixton and even as far afield as Ealing. I think I feel a limerick coming on, or possibly a challenge to the age-old Hot Cross Bun rhyme. (Was it Olivia always used to call them Cross Cross Buns?) Abandon post swiftly!