For Cathy...

 ...who suggested I might enjoy buttered Vegemite toast.

This project has taken some putting together. Remarkably, stationed in Greece as we are, Vegemite was the only ingredient we had available.  F had to go out and get some bread to toast.  That was not completely unusual, she sometimes buys rye bread on Saturday mornings. She eats it with roasted eggplant and garlic.🤭😾

Butter on the other hand has been unheard of in this abode since Mr B left in March.  F used butter for baking (in the days when she did baking), but she never ate the stuff on sandwiches or toast and these days it's all olive oil. 

So now there is toast (rye toast but who cares, its only a base for the butter isn't it?), and there is butter (Danish - is that sacrilege?), and Vegemite.

Experiment conducted and all I can say is "I've been had."  I was awakened by the smell of warm butter being wafted under my nose,  put out my tongue and took an extra long swipe at the  corner of toast being waved at me,  only to be assaulted by another flavour that was, well, that was foreign.  I spent ages licking my chops after that, but not in a way that was savouring the surprise; more sort of cleaning up the mess, making sure it  couldn't surprise me again later.

What a ruination of perfectly good warm butter!

Cathy is right - the memory will definitely stay with me.