Bank Holiday Weekend
It’s amazing how quickly a long weekend fades into the distant memory once you get into the throes of worklife again. The joys of a long weekend are not to be underestimated though, and I, for one, do love this time of year for the amount of bank holidays we get. The only problem at the moment is that, since everyone is staycationing, and I live in seaside town popular with tourists, a bright, sunny and warm bank holiday weekend means I’m mostly avoiding the seafront.
That said, I did venture down last Saturday morning and took little Miss for breakfast at the Ivy by the Sea.
I did think that, given I was out reasonably early, the crowds wouldn’t be too bad but a great many of the harbourside eateries were already full of holidaymakers clutching their first alcoholic beverage of the day. Is it just me who simply cannot face anything alcoholic before noon irrespective of occasion? For the most part, the earliest you will catch me having a tipple is after 5pm, except for at weddings, races and Christmas Day of course. I digress, we enjoyed a lovely lunch in the sunshine, and I’ve established that little Miss will only eat scrambled egg when it’s made by me. Nothing quite like Mummy’s cooking I suppose.
On the way back to the car it was nice to see some new indie shops have set up, and to say hello to my friend who runs the local vintage shop, and who I haven’t seen since before lockdown number 1.
Later in the day was a trip into town to drop some boots at the cobbler for new heels, and I had intended to go to a live music and pizza gig on a ship in the harbour, but seeing the crowds along the seafront by the early evening, I gave that one a miss. Saturday evening was a chilled affair of knitting and relaxing with a glass of prosecco.
Sunday morning started as most Sunday’s do, cartoons in bed followed by a late breakfast and playtime (and yes, little Miss did eat the scrambled eggs that I made that morning). During the afternoon though, I had a table booked at the Copper Horse for Sunday lunch.
Given that one’s slightly out of town, I was a little bit surprised that it too was rather full. Having said that, they still have it all laid out with plenty of space, so it wasn’t too bad. I used to love to just go to the Copper Horse for a coffee or a cocktail of a Friday evening, and that all seems like such a distant memory. It was nice to be back though, and my roast pork dinner with all the trimmings was, of course, pretty damn delicious, and little Miss didn’t dilly dally about eating her sausage and mash, either.
After that giant meal I was knackered, so it was another lazy evening in front of the box with my knitting. I wonder will I ever finish this cardigan? It’s certainly a labour of love, and once done I’m going to focus on some smaller projects before I venture something big again. Oh the plight of being a slow knitter.
On Monday, we decided it was time to bury the ashes of Bailey, which I had collected from the vet on Friday. I wanted to make a nice job of it though, so after a trip to the tip with my defunct carpet washer, I stopped off at B&Q for some plants and soil, and once home set to on digging a corner of my tiny yard to bury him in. By the time I had finished digging through a load of rubble to finally get down to the soil, and then lugging soil and stones around I was a hot mess, but the little ‘grave’ is lovely and made it all worthwhile.
All I was fit for by Monday night was a long soak in a hot bath, complete with a nice face mask, but it was nice at least to get stuff done.