Dear Weekend: Crying over spilt coffee, a day at the farm, a first birthday, a roaring fire and a sunday roast.


We started the day with a fried breakfast. And mugs of tea. And our feet up on the coffee table as we watched the first episode of this seasons The Apprentice. There are two candidates called Oliver and Rebecca this year, so the two of us have decided to back our namesakes and whoever ends up off the show first, has to buy the other one dinner. Let’s just say Rebecca better up her game because she was very nearly out this week and I’d quite like a free meal.


Breakfast devoured, we clambered into the car and made out way to the Farm, to celebrate my little niece, Poppy’s, very first birthday. I insisted that we go via Waitrose to pick up some new toothbrushes and also a free coffee. Except it all went disastrously wrong. I mean terribly, humiliatingly and most embarrassingly wrong.

I asked for two cups and began filling them with piping hot cappuccino whilst Oli went in search of some toothbrushes. I’d finished filling the first cup by the time Oli arrived back brandishing the toothbrushes. And some-crazy-how, as I turned to acknowledge him, the full cup fell. And the coffee literally flew everywhere. It heaved its liquid self up and somersaulted, raining down on the squeaky linoleum below.

I’m pretty sure it was my long scarf that knocked it off the side but my word, what a calamity. Oli’s white canvas shoes were saturated in hot coffee and my favourite brown suede chelsea boots had spattering of cappuccino froth all over them. And the pair of us were stood in a great brown puddle of freshly dropped coffee.

An idiotic woman behind us, shouted, ‘Oh for goodness sake! What now!’ which was completely unnecessary and unwarranted. I mean, none of it even touched her. Complete overreaction. But it just served to irritate me and drew attention to the mortifying spillage literally underneath my feet. I can’t say that the Waitrose staff were particularly understanding or reassuring because they weren’t. They did nothing to alleviate my embarrassment. So we left quickly, well once we’d secured a new coffee.

The Farm we visited, was somewhere I’d been to a lot as a small child and so it was funny being back there as an adult, everything appearing a lot smaller than I remembered it. The day was full of holding and stroking animals, picnicing, squeezing into the soft play with Oli and my niece Sophie and having a generally lovely family time. I cannot believe that this time last year, Poppy was born and I wrote this post all about it. Time flies. What a beautiful thing she is growing up to be. Walking hand in hand with her through the muddy farm was lots of fun and pretty special as I don’t really see her that often.






I made friends with the cutest little chick I ever did see and he promptly snuggled up on my lap and closed his little eyes and nodded off as I stroked his little fluffy head. I very nearly snuck him into my handbag and took him home.

Our Farm quota fulfilled, we headed home to my parents house and enjoyed a home cooked curry and a shop bought Colin the Caterpillar cake for afters and we sang to Poppy, encouraging her to blow out her candle which she wasn’t entirely sure about. Bless her little cotton socks. She stood up all straight and nervous when we sang, all eyes on her, her little mouth flattening out in uncertainty.


A ceremony of present opening then followed and Oli and I soon made our way home, on the lengthy drive back to his house.

Sunday consisted of picking up our wedding rings and wearing them in the evening, to make sure they were the right size. I can’t wait to wear it for real, every day, to look down at my hand and see that I am married to my favourite person.

We had Sushi for lunch again, and with the soy sauce licked from our fingers we set about doing errands and picking up ingredients for dinner that evening. Oli had the chimney swept on Friday which meant we were now able to have a fire in the lounge which was a very exciting and warm prospect for us. It’s amazing what can excite a couple in their mid twenties, so we swung home via the local garden centre and grabbed a few bags of kindling and wood to burn when we got home. There is nothing quite like an evening in, with a hearty roast and a roaring fire warming your soul, toasting your toes and heating up your once freezing living room. It was the very definition of cosy.


It was another brilliant weekend. Until next time. It cannot come soon enough.

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