A very, very old ritual

We have a new nightly ritual. It's new to us, but very, very old, this cooking over the fire business. I've even read a theory that sitting around the fire played a key part in humans learning how to speak. Talk about fundamental.

Every night, after dinner, the request comes: can we toast marshallows? The fire has usually burnt down sufficiently by this stage.

Two nights ago they roasted 11 and 15 each, respectively, which is when we realised that we couldn't just let them sit there with the open bag between them. Now they have a limit of five each.

"I love the fire," said Anna. "I love toasting marshmallows!"

The cat, too, perceives the beauty of it.

Does anything speak pleasure like a cat in front of a warm fire with a loving body to snuggle into?