This weekend started out with a plan. And that plan was to step back and relax.
I know I say this often, but the filming, the photography, the emails, the catching-up. That has to come in somewhere. It can’t come in during work hours, and the extra work is making life tougher for me right now.
I have, I’ve come to accept, been struggling with a bit of stress recently. Just a lot of pent-up emotion and frustration, which has led me to miss out on the good times sometimes.
So I told myself no filming. No panicking about capturing moments. Just live them.
And I did.
We didn’t do much on Saturday. The normal – Charlotte and Bill go and do the shopping, Mark strip wallpaper. He’s finished by the way. Our bedroom is one step closer to being the one we deserve. Instead of a place that we actively avoid.
Mark has worked relentlessly. So I made him one of his favourite meals, for once Bill was asleep. Tapas, anti-pasti, mezze, a concoction of all three.
Garlic mushrooms. Crusty bread. Chorizo in honey. Goat’s cheese pasties. Lamb tagine cigars. Sweetcorn fritters. Halloumi. Serrano ham. Olives.
I’m not even ashamed of how much we ate, while watching a film.
We watched Rudderless, which was equally wonderful, as it was heartbreaking. A twist to the plot, and fantastic music, was all we needed.
Oh. I made Sangria too. I had to right?
Sunday morning started, as all Sunday mornings should, with a bacon and mushroom bagel. This is one of my favourite breakfasts. Especially with OJ and a coffee.
We decided, after I’d folded laundry and played with Bill, to go and visit a local fruit farm. We had been meaning to go for so long and this weekend was the last chance to visit before the season ended.
And it was the best choice we made all weekend. But a whole post is coming on that soon. So I’ll leave it there for now.
We got home and got Bill down for a sleep. He still loves his naps and I really feel like it helps him stop being so grouchy. And helps his little brain too.
Mark watched the football, while I made a lasagne from scratch – something I’ve not actually done before.
As it bubbled away in the oven, I played and chatted to this little boy. Who talks to me now like we’re old friends. Best friends. A glass of red wine, laughter, sunshine and a book. It was a good afternoon to be part of.
We ended up taking our food to the picnic bench outside – bubbling cheese, evening sun, and freshly-picked berries. It was good. And there’s leftovers in the fridge that are calling me. But I’ll resist so I don’t have to cook tomorrow.
I like recording these weekends. They mean nothing really. Not to you perhaps. But they are the things that my heart seems to want to remember. These are the things that make up my life.
The little things.