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When you wake up, and you know that one of your dearest friends is in the other room, it's not hard to actually get up on time. To run downstairs, and prepare a room with a properly laid table for a large and happy breakfast. Breakfasts are so much better when they last for at least an hour and include debates on the morning politics, bacon sandwhiches and tea out of a real teapot.
What a Sunday it's been. At church, it was harvest festival. We sang the old favourite, “We Plough the Field and Scatter” and to be singing along with John again was sheer joy. We went home and prepared lunch, Tom and I dancing around the kitchen in the strange dance of cooking that only works when you know someone really well. Louisa had come to church too, again a joy, and as she and John prepared vegetables, our other friends arrived gradually, Marmers with veg, Toddy with marzipan petit fours, Sandy with chees and wine.
The food simmered away, and we lazed in front of the television, watching funny Youtube videos and enjoying being together, a merry group. Dinner saw chatter over the new Denby dinner service, happy roast chicken from the mother in law's farm, and pie anc cheese cake and smiles. We even went on an after lunch walk, exploring bits of Southampton I have never visited before, through Bitterne Manor, and back over the bridge home.
The chaps played board games this evening, and nibbled on cheese and wine, and I curled up with my knitting and my birthday copy of Julie and Julia, and wallowed in the lovely feeling of being inside on a chilly autumnal day. The new tea cosy for the new spotty tea pot is finished and I am enjoying an evening alone as the lads plot Christmas. How satisfying.
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