I made homemade rolls and garlic bread early this morning, because butter. And many hours later, my apartment still smells like baking bread. (Aromatherapy via yeast.)
In other news, there was a death in the family, caused by the freak accident of tripping over a piece of green thread (on the way to a buttered crumb). Rest in peace, Aunt Sara.
Celebrate butter this Sunday, and if you’re brave, every single day.