I had a lovely weekend with the Daughter, made better by a huge dollop of nostalgia.
The Daughter came over late Saturday afternoon. I picked her up from the station and we went to book a table for an early dinner. Our restaurant of choice – Shish Meze – could only take us if we went in there and then and were out within the hour. Given that it was only quarter past five, we decided against it. We spent the next twenty minutes driving round Hornchurch trying to sort out dinner. Austerity? Recession? Not many signs of it; we had trouble getting in anywhere. Finally, we got a table in the Peking Garden at seven and within ten minutes of sitting down it was completely full and it stayed like that until we left an hour and a half later.
On Sunday I went to watch the Daughter rehearse for a charity show that she and her pals from dancing school are putting on to raise money for one of their mates who needs urgent medication that isn’t funded on NHS. The show will be at the Brentwood Theatre in June. I’ll post about it once tickets go on sale. Watching these young women dancing brought a tear to my eye – but they’ll get better. JOKE!! They morphed back to the fourteen-year-olds I remembered from my drama classes in front of my eyes. It was great to watch them, and none have lost their touch; their numbers are looking great!
Then, on the way to Newbury Park Station, where I was dropping the Daughter off so she could get the tube then the train home – and trying to avoid the London Marathon traffic and crowds at the same time – we both suddenly fancied Sunday roast so we veered off the A12 and into the Moby Dick. We then found ourselves on the table next to the Daughter’s first boyfriend (from dancing days) and his lovely family. So nice! Lovely people.
The only thing wrong with yesterday was that I was freezing. When I got home I decided to get under the duvet to read the paper and woke up to find I’d been asleep for an hour and a half. I rounded the day off with watching Vera – love Vera! – and then got into bed to watch Poldark. OMG! Cried my eyes out. Aidan Turner gave his usual smouldering performance and my sadness that the series has ended was tempered with gratitude that the cliff-hanger – literally in this case; it ended on the cliff top – meant that there will be a second series. But will I be able to wait that long???
I’m putting the final touches on Holiday Reads 2 at the moment. It will be with you mid-May!
