Over the Bank Holiday weekend, I’d made plans to visit one of my dearest and oldest friends in Banbury. We hadn’t seen each other since Christmas, so I was really looking forward to spending some quality time together, having a good old cathartic chat and filling her in on everything that’s gone on since I last saw her, not to mention hearing all about her new job and the glamourous work trip to New York she’d just got back from. I was also looking forward to having one or two alcoholic libations, because if one thing is guaranteed when Bex and I get together, it’s one or two alcoholic libations (exhibit A: Last time we went for Afternoon Tea, and the waitress asked which one we’d like, all three people around the table yelled with alarming excitement: “THE ONE WITH GIN!!”)
Background: Bex and I went to school together, and while working life and University took us on different paths for a few years, the memories of a shared love of Leonardo DiCaprio and Dawson’s Creek kept us together. Of course, life in your 20’s the way it is, when we did meet for a catch up, it was inevitably a boozy affair, usually culminating in us swanning around Solihull’s bars sipping mini bottles of Moet Rose with a straw as if we were Kate Moss. At one point there was even a pact that we would drink Champagne every time we met (I know. Who the actual eff did we think we were??) which ended quite abruptly the night we found ourselves in a grotty nightclub on A-Level results night (not ours, I hasten to add, our A-Level results were a distant memory at this stage), waiting an age for a bemused looking bartender to dust off the one bottle they had on display and desperately try to find some flutes for us to drink it from. Champagne has featured plenty since then, of course, but we got a little more realistic about our goals as we got older!
Cocktails tend to be more firmly on the agenda, and we’d planned as we normally do to head out after her husband got home from work to look after her daughter and sample the offerings of Banbury’s finest cocktail bars. Thing is, the Autumn weather had started closing in. Bex had warned me that a taxi from the station might be required, and true to her word, as the train left Warwick and edged nearer to Banbury, the skies grew eerily dark and rain started pelting us at a horizontal angle! As we sat chatting over a bottle of wine, the rain progressed to angry sounding thunder and lightning, and by the time her husband rang to say he was running late it seemed inevitable. Sod going out. We had gin, I was mid bunny cuddle (if you are ever feeling a little blue, may I suggest some bunny cuddles? Works a charm – I mean, JUST LOOK AT HIS FACE!!) and every single music channel seemed to have a 90’s weekend on, so why bother leaving the house really?
The next day the three of us (Bex’s adorable daughter had now joined the party) spent the morning lounging watching The Aristocats. Then we headed out for a spot of girly shopping, where I spotted a mug I think I need – pretty much sums up most of my weekend posts, don’t you think?? We finally got those cocktails over lunch – a rather delicious Cherry Bakewell in case you’re interested – before we headed back for more gin, more lounging, catching up on Bake Off (with cake, obvs) and a spot of Breakfast at Tiffany’s. So pretty much the perfect day, to be fair. So things might have changed since our hey day. There is definitely a lot less going out until 5am and far less Champagne swilling, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. A change of scenery and a good old chat was just what I needed. Plus, we always have gin…
Of course, I ruined all that sensible, grown up behaviour by getting stupidly drunk on the Sunday. Let’s just say I looked a little like that picture of Bonnie on Monday morning… Oopsie!
Baby steps!
Love,
Picking the Day 