I feel like, for a lifestyle blog, I haven’t actually written an update on my life in ages. Which is partly because I went from being a supportive wife who stayed at home to support her healthy-living husband to invalid who stayed in the flat for days on end through no choice of her own – in one fell swoop. I’m basically a recluse, pity me, pity me.
But finally, my leg is (kind of) back in action, and it stopped raining and the whole of England went mad and barbecued everything in sight, and I managed to have a really good, not crazy weekend, which makes me extremely happy – if tired!
On Friday night we had the idea of going into central London and meeting my friend and best ever drinking pal Lisa for drinks in a sunny pub garden. Unfortunately, literally everyone else in London had the same idea and I was still a bit limpy so couldn’t be bothered to find a quiet little hidden gem, so we ended up in a Slug & Lettuce, where we happily consumed two bottles of wine whilst shouting over the unnecessarily loud music and enjoying the hideous purple velvet décor. When we emerged, all the men in suits had returned from whence they came and we were able to have our final drink at the sort of cute little English pub that we’d been looking for in the first place. It was just nice and relaxed and we got the last tube home and I didn’t shiver walking back.
Then on Saturday I woke up hangover free and made a juice with my new Nutri bullet, which was an early birthday present from my parents and is AMAZING and makes me feel like one of those girls on Instagram who poses in a sports bra. The sun came out and we just lazed about on the balcony all day reading. I haven’t read enough lately – or maybe I’ve been reading rubbish, I’m not sure. All I know is that a few hours of Bill Bryson, interspersed with soup and a hot cross bun and hanging out with a very fat pigeon, made me extremely happy.
In the evening we went to the pub, this time in Canary Wharf on a Saturday so we could easily sit outside and we chatted rubbish until late at night and I felt like I was on holiday and it was lovely.
On Sunday we went to my mum and dad’s house for a BBQ. It was the most beautiful day, and I wore a maxi dress and my knee felt better, and even on the train home, reading my book and staring out of the window at the sunny English countryside, I just knew it was going to be a good day.
I felt like I hadn’t seen my little family for ages and we spent the day in my back garden, which I firmly believe is, in summer, the nicest place in the world, with golden sunlight and the sound of birdsong and the smell of a hundred different flowers, nectar and honey and grass and all the good things in the world.
My dad started up the barbecue and we opened some prosecco, and of course my mum had made three different equally excellent homemade desserts, and it was just the loveliest, most relaxed day I’ve had in a long while.
When the sun had started to dip behind the house, and we had eaten enough for several small armies and the boys had stopped watching the football and you could tell my mum was ready for a nap, us young ones retired to the local pub for another vat of white wine (how I’ve escaped hangover free this weekend is literally anyone’s guess) before we had to return to London. Even though I slept appallingly last night (white wine dreams? Is that a thing?) I woke up feeling so happy and light. England in the summer is the absolute best place in the world – long may it last!
(Although in case it doesn’t, I’m off to Santorini on Friday!)
What did you get up to this weekend?