Though I never find myself short of inspiration for the production of sweet delicacies to embellish Friday night dinner, my husband is always helpfully on the lookout for recipes he finds attractive, recommending them for a try-out in place of my usual fairly broad selection of baked goods which I retain in the filing cabinet I store into memory.

A few days ago he came across something called a 'Chelsea loaf' that appealed to him enormously. It is not, in point of fact, all that different from many other yeast-raised sweet breads stuffed with dried fruit that I have baked on occasion over the years. Most often when he hears of or sees a recipe that he is intrigued by, it has its premier presentation in our home, is somewhat appreciated, but never so much so that it calls out for repeats.

But my husband is never short of enthusiasm. His enthusiasm, needless to say, does not start and end with gustatory treats. He swiftly develops an interest in all sorts of things, and propelled by his natural curiosity, goes on to study those areas that prick  his interest, from art and crafts production to himself becoming familiar with the trades like plumbing, electrical, hard-landscape techniques, even furniture production. Applying himself to any project at hand that he becomes invested in, and doing a fairly good job of anything he turns his hand to.

He has even tried, on occasion, baking cakes, but the results persuaded him to leave that sphere to me. Not that he doesn't engage himself in kitchen things; he bought and uses a bread-maker and from time to time bakes a bread, especially geared through its constituents, to appeal to my taste. Well, back to the 'Chelsea loaf' that requires not only raisins and currants which I have in my baking pantry, but also candied cherries and citrus, which I have not. So off he went to the local bulk-food store, where he loves to poke around at any time, and he brought back raisins (which we had in abundance already), cherries and candied citrus peel. Oh, and those old-fashioned colourful licorice candies.

He mumbled something when he got home about the cashier at the store chuckling and warning my husband that he would be 'in for it' when he arrived home with his purchases. And when I looked at what he'd brought home I asked, did they not have rigid plastic containers available? He had packed the cherries and the several types of citrus peel straight into plastic bags. The resulting mess, with the sugar-glazed fruit clinging unhelpfully to the bags' interiors as I attempted to put them into glass jars was quite awkward.

My dear husband, chagrined and apologetic, did his best to be helpful as I transferred the gooey mess from plastic to glass for storage. As it happened, I had already baked a cheesecake with a glazed raspberry top, to please our granddaughter who loves cheesecake, as does her grandfather. The 'Chelsea loaf' will have to wait for next week.