It’s that age old thing, needing a holiday to get over a holiday! M and I have just been away for four days. It was all a bit last minute as usual and not really a holiday at all for M. We kicked off by leaving in the small hours for London. I was praying for a cancellation or a booking cock up because Balham didn’t seem the likeliest place to kill five hours comfortably. As it turns out there is quite a sewing industry there and apart from gazing in to old fashioned steam pressing workshops I also managed to kill some time in a large haberdashery type of shop. It wasn’t the most well kept emporium but it was a trove of interesting supplies nonetheless. I managed to find some vintage crochet patterns in a sale folder which I’ll add to my box file in the hope one day I’ll get round to using them as design inspiration.
Coffee and air conditioning was my salvation for the rest of the time. I bought a Virago classic from a charity shop and devoured it in almost one sitting. I really only read these days when I forget to take my crochet. The crochet was safely tucked up in my suitcase in the back of the car outside the local court house but even if I had it with me I’m not always keen to whip it out in a cafe. Typically there was a knitter there who looked very confused with her knitting in the round project after just two rows. It was only stocking stitch so I’m guessing she was fairly new to it. Had it been crochet of course I’d have definitely volunteered some help!
From London we travelled down to Canterbury and I was persuaded to try a Japanese restaurant for the first time. I’m always up for new things and it turns out I did actually recognise a few things on the menu anyway. Sadly my sitting cross legged on wooden floor days are over but if it wasn’t for my dodgy knee and M’s dodgy hip we absolutely would have loved that. We stayed in a hotel right next to the cathedral and even with a huge sash window open and large chrome fan it was ridiculously hot all night. I ended up getting up several times in the small hours just to optimise the position of the fan.
I had a bit longer than expected in Canterbury the next day. After a quick browse through the town I bought some fresh cherries, stocked up with plenty of water and headed for a sign I’d spotted for a riverside walk. I found a shady spot under a tree and did some crochet and a bit of reading. I’d have happily fallen asleep like one of the women across the way but I’d never feel safe doing that in public. When I close my eyes I effectively close all sound off too. Small rowing boat tours went by and even some punts. It all felt rather civilised and a little Victorian, well apart from my lack of ladylike ways with a pound of cherries on my lap, that were very soon in my tummy.
M was very hot, tired and hungry when it was finally time to leave Canterbury. Later analysis of his boring monologues every time this happens only revealed that he believes it is part and parcel of being a wife, that it’s my duty to listen to this tosh and deliver sympathy! I quietly but firmly informed him that I did not agree with that at all and that I’d be more sympathetic if he didn’t go on and on. That there is indeed another way and that is to stoically cope in silence and make arrangements to seek food and drink to revive himself. I hold onto the advice that I can’t change this about him even if I do offer alternative ways but I can change the way I react, so I’m probably just working my way through various options. Silence is always a good one.
I’m sure some would rather have accommodation booked in advance and know exactly where they are going and when. We have a more casual approach and ironically this never actually causes any tension or stress. On arrival in my neck of the woods we found the hotel I thought would have vacancies did not. We pulled up in a lay-by and both googled for alternatives and found a reasonable option in nearby Battle. The room was perfectly ok but the bathroom had seen better days. I was secretly glad that our best option for a meal was Italian and it was superb despite the fact it was so quiet on a weekday in the middle of what should have been peak tourist trade. Another hot night meant little sleep for either of us which didn’t help matters the following morning when M needed to catch up on laptop work while I was keen to get going to see my Grandfather. We had a lovely pub lunch with Grandad away from the touristy spots by the sea and went back to his place for a cup of tea and more chat. It was a flying visit but always so good to see him for real rather than via FaceTime. He loved his crochet medal birthday card I made him for his birthday by the way.
The work schedule meant we had to dash over to Brighton next. M had secretly booked this next hotel and I’m pretty sure it was his way of admitting that maybe he’d been a bit of a twit since Canterbury. For the same as our usual budget he’d managed to get a huge room with a triple aspect sea facing window and a large corner whirlpool jacuzzi bath. The fact that we were too tired to move was beside the point. After some more work stuff we were free to stroll along the seafront, eat and take in the many walks of life this place was buzzing with. It was slightly surreal sipping cold cans of coke on the seafront at midnight (and still in the high twenties) watching a floodlit basketball game, something you wouldn’t expect in Old Blighty.
Brighton is pretty cool if you know where to go. With just a short time left I was able to show M a few of my favourite streets that are often mistaken for the Lanes but are in my humble opinion, much more interesting. I mean where else can you see a shop just for Vegetarian shoes, alongside one just for belly button piercings, a window full of the brightest leather brogues just for men, Moroccan leather goods, the most fantastic plant shop (I could have spent a while there)… it’s full of whacky graffiti and huge 3D shop signs mounted on the walls too. So much to take in. M loved it.
We paid a little visit to Yak and treated E to some yarn and a suitable pattern. I may have lined up my next project with yarn and a pattern booklet too! M was chatty and patient despite the heat. He will confidently walk into any yarn store and ask for the man table. Occasionally I run ideas by him, he’s surprisingly helpful and gets more knowledgeable by the day. I could put a hank of something special in front of him and ask him if he liked the colours and he’ll look at the label and say, mmh, 210 yards, what could you make with that, a hat maybe? I know, it’s uncanny, it’s partly bluff and partly stuff he’s picked up and remembered.
J is always tricky to treat to little things when I’ve bought something for E. This time though it was easy. So many people in Brighton had stainless steel water flasks with most cafes supplying iced water to help yourself to. We found a great midnight blue one for J and driving home wish we had bought two more. Our bottled water was warm in no time despite the air conditioning in the car.
The journey home took considerably longer than it should have due to the volume of traffic on the roads and a torrential downpour through Cambridgeshire slowed things up a bit too. I don’t mind admitting I gulped a few times when we were saying goodbye to Sussex, ok sobbed actually but I blame hormones, it just felt so easy to go back to everything I knew and loved and so bloody hard to come back here every time to this flat and uninspiring county. I focussed hard on all the positive things here but I never quite get that, phew, so glad to be home feeling that I think you’re supposed to feel when you’ve been away for a little while. I think that’s why I throw myself into cleaning and laundry and random jobs when I get home and it stays that way for a good few days, then I distract myself some more and eventually that sinking feeling gets overtaken by daily life.
So currently I am partially blocking my skimming stones shawl on the kitchen worktop while I sew in the last few ends (it’s taking a while). Alongside that I’ve pinned the crochet edging that will soon be attached to my black linen dress. I’m trying not to think about my lack of sewing skills but surely even I can tack an edging along a hem? It’s rather annoying that the kids just want to use the worktop for food prep, I mean honestly, can’t they just take a day off?
We’ve had dramatic weather here the evening with large hail stones dropping amongst torrential rain. They were the size of marbles and cold as ice cubes from the freezer, so surreal when it was still thirty degrees. J and I wrestled with the shed roof cover but we well and truly lost the battle and we will now just have to hope for more heatwave weather to dry it it again. The thunder and lighting has been terrifying for Riley. He wouldn’t budge from my lap for a good long time. He’s glued to my side right now and only settled down when I employed my usual trick of playing loud music to drown it all out.
More housework is on the cards for tomorrow especially if the rain has finally cooled things down a little. I have so many crochet projects on my to do list but I need to tick off the two kitchen worktop projects first before a food or drink accident happens.
[the photos from top to bottom are… the M11, Canterbury, fresh Kent cherries, Canterbury with outside pub seating (where I may have had a drink or two and announced that I could see a Flink Pamingo!) frogging crochet edging due to excessively hot weather impeding concentration, Battle Abbey in golden evening sun, crochet WWII medal, crochet edging project, hotel room overlooking Brighton seafront, finishing the skimming stones shawl with a sea view, kitchen worktop blocking station, stocks which were well and truly dead but not ditched (not on teenage radar) when we got home.]