"April is the cruellest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain."

When T.S.Eliot wrote "The Waste Land" surely he could not imagine that this coming month of April would be cruel to us for other and probably much more dramatic reasons.

Nevertheless I have always liked Eliot's poetry, so I couldn't help quoting these lines.

Of course poetry has nothing to do with my today snapshot from self-isolation.
But, you see, all what I can do in the morning is cleaning, tidying up and cooking.

It seems to me that this subject may be more enjoyable than a vacuum cleaner or a kitchen towel.
So here is an apple pie, carefully baked by your humble truly.