What happens on a weekend (WE*)

Yesterday, J asked me in an email what happens in a Welsh weekend. Instead of answering her, I ignored her email and decided to write this instead. Here's what happens Matey!

My first weekend in Wales I went to two farmers markets and bought a bunch of cheese, bacon, some duck, some sausages some vegetables and naturally, some Welsh Cakes.

Don't know what Welsh cakes are? Don't worry, they will get their very own post in due course. All that stuff is long gone now, consumed during the course of the week. It was a great weekend, but it belongs to history. Now, let's focus on this weekend.

On Saturday morning we awoke early in order to catch the train to nearby Chepstow. We heard they have a farmers market and also a castle so we thought what the heck, let's go go Chepstow. It's only half an hour away on the train. In Wales, that's like going to Ballarat or something.

Turns out their farmers market is just three stalls in the car park of a senior citizens centre. So going to Ballarat might have been better. Until we saw their castle. Oh my goodness their castle is the real deal. It was built 1000 years ago and is in ruin now but heck you guys, castles be impressive. If a little chilly.

After wandering around the castle for a while we went to The Boat Inn for a pint and a lunch. I got the venison burger with Stilton and Appleheart got the fish and chips, and jolly good they both were.
It was very cold and we were feeling very tired so we caught the train home and had a cup of tea, some chocolate digestive biscuits then a little nap. In the evening we were still full from lunch so we just had more tea and digestives for dinner, watched grand designs and went to bed.

Then Sunday rolled around. I woke up early because I'd basically been sleeping since  4pm the day before. It was a beautiful crisp but sunny morning. Unbelievable! The mornings are grey here you see . I went for a jog along the river Taff then felt smug for the rest of the morning. Our only plan for the day was to go to a pub called Y Mochyn Du for Sunday lunch. I love how they have Sunday lunch here even though I can't pronounce the names of the pubs where they have it. Well, I can't pronounce Y Mochyn Du. 

We ate Sunday roast, drank a pint and watched Liverpool beat Manchester City which was is something Appleheart likes to do. It was lovely, but it was cold and we were very tired, so when we got home we had a cup of tea and  some chocolate digestive biscuits. One thing led to another and before you know it, we were napping. A nap from which I have just woken up, and woken to discover an email from J asking what Welsh weekends are like. Like this! Like this.

*Welsh edit. I was going to call it 'welsh edition' but then I thought of Welsh edit would be funnier because it's something GOOP would say and she is so annoying.

The highlights (AM)

What a weekend. Or something. In fact my weekend was really quiet but by the end of it I felt exhausted. You wanna know some of the weekend's highlights? Ok, sure.

1. Friday night - Geelong vs Hawthorn. Especially the last minutes. Holy muthereffing moly you guys!!! Now, you either saw it or you didn't. And you either care or you don't. But in case you don't know Geelong ran away with the first quarter. Just were creaming the Hawks, who, over the course of the match made up ground to be ahead of Geelong in the last quarter. Hawthorn were dominating. Yada yada yada, in the last 20 seconds or so, 4 POINTS down Tom Hawkins took a mark for Geelong right in front of the goals on the 50 metre line. Yeah, you see where this is going? NAIL BITING EXCITEMENT! And he kicked the goal, after the siren for Geelong to win the match. You know, a lot of the time I don't even care much about footy but this was awesome. And by that I mean actually awesome. It was so exciting, I actually could hardly stop thinking about it all weekend. Footy! Get it up ya!

Tomahawk in amazed delight

2. I effed up some muffins. Yeah, this doesn't sound like a highlight does it. I made cinnamon, choc chip and walnut muffins and in my haste used plain flour instead of  self-raising. Dumkopf! When I made the realisation after noticing those muffins just weren't rising I was so disappointed. They smelled so good but they were just going to be crap. But that is when I realised that I could whack them in a dish with some custard to make a bread-pudding-like muffin pudding. Um, warm, custardy, chocolatey, nutty goo! Get it up ya! And add cream

3. I napped on the bean bag on Sunday. I told Chickpea and Strawberry this and they looked at me like a weirdo for sharing such a boring piece of information. But if you have ever been really tired after a bunch of wines the night before and 5 hours sleep and being woken by a child and you have to go to the pub later for a birthday party and you just want a nap and then your child curls up on you and falls asleep allowing you follow suit, well, then you will know how effing good that feels. Naps! Get 'em up ya!

4. Oh yeah, hanging with all my delightful friends was great too. I'm not saying that get it up ya thing here. Come on, guys! That would be really inappropriate.

Things are rough all over

In the interest of full disclosure I will admit that when I read your post this morning I felt jealous. Yep. Actually jealous. I felt worse when I realised I will probably be 50 before I get to have a holiday like yours. And while I am glad 50 is almost 20 years away I am sad that a wonderful holiday such as yours is also nearly 20 years away. This is a really complex issue.

Don't get me wrong. I am happy for you and KJ that you are living the sweet life. Lord knows you could use a break from all that auditing and KJ certainly needs to take a breather from all those bomb checks.

Anyways, as I was feeling sorry for myself I went to the park and put Baby on the slide and he looked so goddamned happy that made me feel better. Now I am home and Doggy and Baby both appear to be sleeping the sleep of very contented creatures and look adorable so I thought to myself, suck it up bitch, your life is alright. But then I thought to myself, hey so what if this life is sweet, wouldn't lying on a beach, swimming in the Carribean and drinking sundowners also be sweet? Why wouldn't I want that also. God! So complex!

Right now, you feel like this woman (though obviously you guys are not in business suits)*:
I can't even remember the last time I punched the air. Though I do remember when I deferred uni this semester I ran to the car where LB was waiting and jumped in the air and clicked my heels. I guess that is almost the same thing. But usually I would have to say a visual representation of my joy feelings would more closely align with this:

And that's cool too. Better than feeling like this I guess:



*It's true readers, yesterday K sent me a picture of her and KJ doing exactly this.

A day in NYC

Today was our first proper day in NYC.

Uncle G arrived late last night and we sat around drinking American beer and planning what to do on our first day. We all agreed that we would just take it easy, perhaps walk uptown and see where we ended up. This started out promisingly enough, but it quickly became apparent that they were looking to me to be some kind of navigator/tourguide. They started pointing at things and saying "what's that building?", and then looking at me expectantly. The first few times I good naturedly responded with "ooh, I'm not sure" but after I while I started to feel the burden of two adults depending on me for all of their information needs, and I became agitated. I started saying things like "Look guys, I've only been here once before!" and "how am I supposed to know, sheesh!" but they kept asking questions.

In addition, the two of them kept making 'humorous' observations, such as the following exchange which occurred when we went to the Thompson Square Park and watched the dogs in the off lead area, including a few chihuahuas:
Mum: "Aren't they beautiful!"
Uncle G: "Yes, but I had no idea New York's rat problem had become so bad"
Mum: *Nyuk nyuk nyuk*
Me: *Forehead slap*

By the time we got to the Flatiron district I had had enough. I knew I needed to find a quiet place and regroup, so I told them that they should stay in one spot while I walked around and found the best vantage point from which to take a photo.
They totally bought it.

There they are at the bottom right of the frame, blissfully unaware of my plot and looking so small and fragile against the backdrop of that big building. I started to feel guilty for being irritated and wanted to repent. I asked them where they wanted to go next and Mum's little face lit up when I suggested the Empire State. So off we went.
While I thought I wasn't one for big views, I found it surprisingly enjoyable. Hella windy, of course. But quite fun.

We are back at the apartment now and everyone is napping before dinner time.
Such a good one.