I’ve never traveled around the UK as much as I have in my new job. So last weekend I thought I would take advantage of already being North for work and visit some friends in Leicester (I do know Leicester is in the Midlands and not technically North but anything above Watford is North for me).
Coming off the motorway in the tin can hire car in storm Callum was a bit hairy, but as soon as I saw a ‘tractor crossing’ sign I smiled a huge smile. I’m definitely not in London anymore.
Greeted with a grin and a huge platter of goodies (title reference no. 1) the first night was catch ups and munch. It is such a good feeling to see someone you haven’t seen in a long time and everything being easy and like not a days passed since you last saw each other.
I’ve shared many times about my previous anxiety. There was a time I would have been worried about going to meet a friend and definitely anxious about staying with a friend, especially a friend with a little one. I am sure it sounds odd if you don’t suffer from anxiety but I would worry about everything, spending too long in the shower, not making enough conversation, making too much conversation, not being good with their kids, not staying long enough, staying too long, not helping out enough. The list was endless. Normally, I would be too pissed by the time I got to said friends house that all my worries had disappeared, until the morning after when the ‘fear’ started and my anxiety increased x100. God it was exhausting living like that. Even writing about it brings some of those feelings back.
But there wasn’t one anxious thought on this weekend! There was of course, no need, I was spending time with people I love, who love me for me, not how long I spend in the shower.
On Saturday we woke up bushy tailed and bright eyed (never understood the bushy-tailed bit of that saying) and ventured to the local farm shop for brunch. The trendy little farm shop being a 5 minute walk from my friends house. It was the epitome of grown-up life. Having brunch in a farm cafe with my couple friends and their child. What brought the level of grown-up down a tad was me whacking my phone out to take pictures at every opportunity.
After the farm house we drove a little way out to go pumpkin picking (title reference no 2.), another American tradition we’ve adopted over here. Now I know a lot of people begrudge these American traditions, but anything that involves having fun and celebrating; I am all for! SO bring on the baby showers, gender reveal and pumpkin picking!
My friends little boy couldn’t wait to go and pick the biggest pumpkin! He was so excited he treated us all to a rendition of his favourite song from Moana during the car journey, no less then 8 times. I now know all the words to the songs of a film I have never seen and I still can’t get the tune out of my head. He sings beautifully – he should do really with all the practice.
Being a typical 3 year old he had totally lost interest after 5 mins at the pumpkin patch, but we had driven almost an hour to get there so we were staying! We spent most of the time discussing how the pumpkins got there in the first place, seriously – they weren’t routed, so had someone dug them up and put them there? Do they even grow in the ground? I don’t want to google it because that would spoil the mystery…
After the PP (cool kids speak for pumpkin patch) my wonderful hosts took me to see the canal locks and we sat in the sun and had a coffee before hopping back in the car and being treated to more Moana renditions.
The weekend finished with food food and more food (which tends to happen when you stop drinking – you start to enjoy eating). My friend and I went for a gorgeous dinner and some girlie time and then we all went for a Sunday roast the following day. There’s something about country pubs actually in the countryside – everything tastes better – fresher and the service is more personable.
To keep the little one (and me) entertained whilst waiting for our gorgeous roasts we all played with Pay-Doh (title reference no.3). Play-Doh is seriously underrated in the adult world. It smells of childhood, helps us relax and gets our creativity going, maybe the Tate Modern could do with an interactive Play-Doh exhibition for adults only? Play-Dough-X…Grown-Up-Dough…Dough-Re-Me…
I will leave you with that thought…
Love Katie xxx