How many days between the weekend, and a post talking about the weekend’s events, are permissible before it becomes ‘old news’ and too late to write about? I would normally say one or two days but seeing as I’ve had a
painfully shitty surprisingly challenging week at work this week, I thought as it’s Friday and the new weekend is upon us, I should write about the fabulous weekend we had last weekend, as a way of reminding myself that it’s not all bad and that in just over an hour it will be the weekend again.
There wasn’t anything of particular significance that happened last weekend, but it was just one of those perfectly balanced weekends. You know the ones where you get to do enough relaxing, accomplish enough from your ‘to-do’ list, see enough of your friends and have enough fun? Wait, can you ever have enough fun?! It was also one of those rare weekends that don’t feel like they’ve gone too quickly. It felt like a proper break, almost a holiday.
Firstly, I spent the evening in with C on Friday. I relish these nights because they are so rare. His job being what it is, it’s quite common for him to work on weekends, and when he doesn’t it’s more likely that we’ll have plans as opposed to a night in together. Especially if, like last weekend, he has the whole weekend off. Usually, if he’s got the whole time from Friday evening to Monday morning off, we go away or it’s just super busy with other things that we don’t get time to ourselves. And admittedly, often when we have nights in together during the week we don’t do much but sit in front of the TV and watch shows, instead of communicating. It’s nice to be reminded sometimes of how much we just love each other’s company. We still have the most fantastic conversations and it’s really nice after not seeing him for most of the week to catch up on a Friday evening with a few drinks, a few laughs and a nice long chat.
Saturday was an absolutely stunning day. The sun was out and there was blue sky, a rarity in London at the moment, so we got up, pumped the tunes, had a boogie, ate some breakfast and after a few small jobs I went out for a lovely long run while C stayed back and cleaned the house. SCORE!!! So not only did I have a thoroughly enjoyable run on such a glorious day, I came home to a nice clean house, which as most people who know me personally will know is absolute bliss as far as I’m concerned. (Who are you calling anally retentive huh?)
Did I mention Saturday was Australia Day? No, I didn’t. Well, every year on Australia Day in London, C makes a huge effort to make the day special for me. So after my run we went on a bike ride into town, something I love doing anyway, and made a special visit to the Australia store where I bought up a storm of Aussie goodies that we paid WAY too much for. (Although I have a sneaking suspicion this trip was partly for himself seeing as we got so many things that I’m not allowed to eat!!) After which we came home and he cooked me rissoles which (inspired by The Castle) has become a bit of an Australia Day menu tradition.
After a delicious meal, we went out to a pub in Shoreditch for the Australia Day party. Said party was at the Queen of Hoxton, a pub I had never been to before and I was stoked to find that it has an awesome rooftop that will be a brilliant place to spend some summer days this year. For the Aussie Day celebrations they’d put up a tipi, set up a huge BBQ, and were selling Australian beers. It was great fun, but was pretty packed and just got more so as the night went on. Unfortunately there was a higher volume of those ‘Un-Aussies’ I mentioned in attendence, but we hadn’t planned to stay long anyway what with our wallet-tightening this year so we bailed when it started to become tired. We then had some friends around for a few drinks (read: a few too many drinks) while we listened to a replay of Triple J’s Hottest 100, my all-time favourite thing to do on Australia Day (apart from go to the beach, but seeing as I’m in London, the beach is very out of the question).
Sunday was even tougher – I got breakfast in bed despite Mr O’s hangover* and we then spent the entire day just us hidden in our little cave, entirely absent from the real world, chilling, sleeping off hangovers, catching up on missed TV from through the week, cooking delicious food and snuggling. Basically, what I consider a perfect Sunday. Ahhhh… if only the weekends never had to end and reality never had to kick in huh? Thank god a new one is nearly upon us!!
* I have to admit I often give C a hard time, but one thing he does do a lot is cook me breakfast in bed. Absolute bliss and I think it’s possibly one of the reasons I married him!!