I am officially in detox and recovery.
I strained a muscle in my lower back doing the laundry which is rather painful and I spent the day at work with a large bag of frozen peas shoved down the back of my trousers and so by the end of the weekend, I felt quite broken.
Three days of celebrations. Three weeks of recovery,
At least that’s that for the birth of the Tessiah.
It was the last stage of the birthday celebration, a family affair with a bottomless champagne brunch.
Bottomless doesn’t mean you’re not wearing bottoms, it means there’s a continuous flow of champagne for a specific amount of time, start your engines chaps, it’s two hours of speed drinking.
Or not! I’ve learned my lesson over the years and now pace myself with a modified intake as too much champagne is not a good thing, although it’s not as bad as too much gin!
Here we go!
What a weekend of extremes!
From drinking martinis on Friday at Claridge’s, to sitting at the laundrette on a wet Sunday morning doing the weekly wash.
A varied reality indeed!
As we won’t have a kitchen (or a washing machine) for a while, this is a weekly occurrence which means dragging bags of washing down to the coin laundry at the end of the road.
It’s not bad but things just aren’t as clean as they are when they’re washed at home and it’s an ongoing challenge trying to stay on top of the dirt.
This week we’re hitting the go button on a few projects as we’re moving forward on the other rooms in the flat including the bathroom.
We starting work with an interior designer, we’ve chosen paint colours and we’ve partly rewired two rooms so far, we’re hoping we can move into our master bedroom in the next couple of weeks!
And yes there is a hole in the floor where Big T stood on a chair.
The birth of the Tessiah continued on Saturday as we set off for afternoon tea at The Delaunay.
Admittedly it had been given to me as a Christmas gift by my colleagues but it seemed like a good idea to save it for an event bigger than Christmas!
We were (well, I was) still a little fragile but a small glass of Champagne with sandwiches, scones and cakes seemed to help. My only criticism, not enough savoury elements as I don’t have a sweet tooth.
We did discuss at length how to eat a scone. Big T ate his like a sandwich with the two side slapped together with jam and cream whereas I go open faced with jam and cream applied to both sides therefore getting twice as much topping. Seems obvious.
As for whether it’s jam first or cream first, I’m a jam first person whereas the sandwich method makes the whole argument redundant.
After all that we were exhausted and very happy go home for a quiet evening of recovery…in preparation for part three, the bottomless Sunday brunch. Oh my liver!
Each February 8th we celebrate the birth of the Tessiah, that’s right it’s Big T’s birthday.
It is bigger than Christmas around here and last night was no exception.
We started with outrageously expensive martinis at Claridge’s, followed by sushi at our favourite London sushi restaurant and finally a treat as I always make us go on public transport, a black cab home.
It was a lot of fun but I’m going to confess that after the sushi it all got a bit hazy and one of us was perhaps a little under the weather as martinis are very strong indeed and one’s constitution is not.
Still, we made it home in one piece (sort of) and looking at the receipts this morning, the damage wasn’t too bad although I suspect my liver might not agree!
Saturday morning and one of us is feeling fragile from last night’s festivities and the other has decided to remove all the wood chip wallpaper from the hall.
Guess who’s hiding in the front room?
As I went out at 10:30pm to take the dog around the block, snowflakes were softly falling through the glow of the street lights.
It was quiet and no one else was out, not even the foxes.
Agnes loves snow and jumped in the air trying to catch the snowflakes, twirling on her back legs and growling in delight.
In the morning, while not a thick blanket, it was enough to send the city into chaos and force me into getting the slow, rumbling, red bus to work.
Agnes ran through the snow-covered park like a delirious gazelle; leaping, bounding, jumping with complete abandon. A sight of pure joy.
If it lasts the weekend we’ll be enjoying some more snow fun while transport grinds to a halt.