I officially had my oldest friend visit this past weekend. We worked out that as Titanic was released while we did our swimming teaching course together, Sonic and I had known each other for sixteen years. It staggered me.
I cannot lie, I was a bit nervous about seeing her again, too much time apart? Too much water under the bridge? I needn’t have worried, because from the minute she got out her car it was like we’d never been apart. We talked about old times, talked about what is happening now, and just, talked.
And drunk. A lot. Hubs and I don’t normally drink much (yes, you did read that right all you UK peeps), but Thursday night, my liver was punished with sparkling wine. And again on Friday night, except I started with a cider. And finished with a couple of glasses of Port. It was that thimbleful of Port that gave me the headache on Saturday, and all day Sunday for good measure, not the entire bottle of fizz I’d drunk before that. Not at all. My poor liver.
We hadn’t planned a huge amount for the couple of days Sonic and Smiffy were with us. We’d just booked tickets for Murder on the Puffing Billy Express for Friday evening, and took Peanut to the zoo on Friday, (along with the rest of all the children in Melbourne as it was the first sunny day all week, and also the last day of the holidays). On Thursday night, my cousin and her husband came up to the house to meet them both, we sat around a cheese board and chattered away, which was lovely. Hubs unfortunately had an allergic reaction to something, which progressed into being sinusitis over the weekend, so he wasn’t feeling great, but he rallied through, bless his heart. We all of us had disco-naps to get through on Friday, I needed another on Saturday, for medicinal purposes. Ahem.
In an effort to try and be there, or more here as the case maybe. I am consciously taking less photographs, enjoying life while it happens, instead of through a camera lens. Which proved problematical when Peanut went to sleep on us after his swimming lesson on Saturday, and we realised we hadn’t got a picture of him with Sonic and Smiffy, and they were due to leave to get a flight to NZ. I snatched a couple on my phone, not great, as he’d just woken up, but at least one can go into his album of people he’s hung out with.
Sonic and I were talking about making new friends and how it gets harder as you get older. You meet people all the time, but becoming a friend is definitely more difficult as life stretches out away from your teenage years to twenties. Maybe because life means you can’t connect on such a regular basis, who knows. I do know that I’m hopeless, I have lists of people I need to contact, and most of the time I can keep up with everyone, but this past 3-4 months, I am fully aware that I have not been in touch as much as I need and deserve to be. I’ve helped out one friend above all others, because she’s had a horrendous time with a family break-up, but even then, my Mother’s Group must wonder if I’m still on the planet. My coven back in the UK love me enough to know that we’ll speak soon, but to everyone else I’m trying to keep up with, I’m sorry. Truly sorry that life is getting in the way of our relationship. Being a nuclear family means the onus is on us. And when life is stretched, I guess we’re just like everyone else, trying to get through each day intact.
Last night, I was pottering in the kitchen and heard this recipe on the woman’s hour podcast, and promptly made it for dinner. Aside from being as easy as anything, it was so tasty, I can tell it will soon become a weeknight staple supper. The new house routine is working well, tonight I am going to do a quick home blessing, i.e. charge around and do the basics, but then Mt. Foldmore is beckoning. I’ve got trousers I’m itching to wear in my wardrobe, alas, I need to get up the gym so that I can fit in them, or stop eating. One of the two, or indeed both. Until then, a couple of other pairs of trousers are getting heavy use and I need to get them ironed and ready for the rest of the week. Hubs has been signed off work for tomorrow (he is now on a course of antibiotics to clear his sinuses, poor boy), and I have an appointment at 9:40, we can have a slow family breakfast together.
People I care about, I know I need to tell you more often that I care about you. But do feel free to tell me as well. We’ll meet in the middle somewhere.