Well, the planning came to be my greatest tool, as my weekend delivered on every level.
Fridays gym plus drinks was great. Drinks wise, the turn out was good the event low key but really entertaining. It is always nice to have a good old catch up with folks. I was lugging my gym bag around with me, and by about 10.30pm realised I had eaten nothing so off Pete and I went off to Wagamama for edamame, gyoza and a Katsu curry. I don’t even know why I bother reading the menu, we have a standard order. A quick dash home, abandoned the gym bag, and turning on our heels and we headed off to Dempseys for a dance. Now Radio 2 is my favourite. I love it. From my early morning Zoe Ball on a Saturday, through to Alan and Mel on a Saturday night, Radio 2 is the soundtrack to my weekends. Actually today Jodie Prenger was on for Paul O’Grady and was a lot bettor than he usually is. But listening to middle aged fm means that when it came to dancing on Friday night I knew next to zero of the songs. Seriously, I was embarrassed for me. I had to Shazam about a dozen times and didn’t know who the artist was or where they had come from. I’m officially a dinosaur.
My hangover was not as bad as anticipated Saturday morning, so I baked bread, had some breakfast and watched the Trooping the Colour. Following this I felt responsible enough to drive us shopping, in the fairly relentless rain. So what did we buy in the miserable conditions? Holiday wear. Ah yes. Vests, shorts, a pork pie hat, a t shirt and books for the beach. We are so giddy for Mykonos. A gym regime from hell, work, Pete’s recent exams and typical miserable British weather made me beach focused. Bring on the sunshine. And Babe Robinson.
To increase comfort levels dinner was a chicken and spinach keralan curry followed by a lemon tart.
All devoured whilst watching Black Swan. I was freaked. Loved it but I freaked out when Winona went all nail file psycho. I’m still a bit confused about what I saw. Sometimes “arty” is lost on me.
Sunday has been a domestic blitz. I washed up then Pete and I ran to the gym, did body pump, ran home, went to the launderette, went shopping, tidied the house and then I made my pasta and meatballs. It rained all day. Is there anywhere better to be on a rainy day than in the kitchen? If so, I’ve not found where.
A blog of my meatball recipe is to follow. Seriously, I impress myself sometimes. I’m domestically improving everyday. Pretty soon, I’ll be Stepford worthy. I’m already developing webbing that’s threatening to make it impossible to remove my Muji apron, it the first thing I put on when I get home. That’s how 1950’s I am. I even went into Lakeland this weekend and a sales woman said can I help you with anything, to which I replied “I want everything”, we had a right laugh talking about the stock and an octogenarian joined in the fun chatting about the parchment lined tin foil. She said she’d not laughed so much in years and I’d “kept her young”. That’s my level of craziness. And that’s my brethren, pensioners.
And on that note, I’m off to brew a cup of complan and book a saga cruise.
Join me later for a blow by blow account of how to enter meatball heaven.
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