If you are anything like me, then Monday arrives and you groan and then start wishing that it was the weekend again. My colleagues and I do it and every week there is always one of us who was sure that Thursday was actually Friday. They are then consoled for the next two days!
But I have been thinking about the weekend more this last week after reading Jane’s post and how much burden I put on myself through all my wild ideas for those two days. I write a list and aim to get so many things done, all the bits that I haven’t crammed in to the week, like laundry and cleaning and blogging and shopping and wrapping presents and cooking. And the weekend can turn in to a bit of a nightmare.
Usually I spend Sunday evening wondering what on earth happened to the weekend!
I am entering this weekend with no firm plans at all. I had had plans to go to see Bugsy Malone with some fellow bloggers but I have cancelled them. The weekend is resting on whether my grandfather remains in hospital or whether he goes home. See, there is a plan (of sorts) to go up to Norwich and clean the house. And I don’t mean just hoover, I mean deep clean it. I am finding the prospect of doing some deep cleaning this weekend quite therapeutic. And if grandad comes home, then I will just see what happens.
Have a wonderful weekend.
Do you have plans and are you like me, and cramming as much as you can into these two days?
I had been counting down the days until Easter. By Thursday I was sure that it was in fact Friday as I was sure that I had already worked five days – its been busy like that.
I had planned to go to Borough Market today but found that I really didn’t need anything and so changed my plans slightly, a walk through St James’s Park (photos from last year are here) and up to Covent Garden to see the eggs.
The walk through St James’s Park is always beautiful. The tourists meander along tracking down either Buckingham Palace or a soldier on a horse, but stopping to gaze at the beautiful flowers is my favourite thing to do. It’s calming and incredible to see the attention that goes into these displays. And then we were off (passing the soldiers on horses) through Trafalgar Square and up to Covent Garden. I had seen a few of the eggs online and knew roughly what we would see but mum didn’t have a clue that there were so many eggs and the size of the eggs. More details on the eggs here.
Although it was sunny, it still remained pretty cold and mum and I were so pleased that we stopped for brunch at Bills tucked away in Covent Garden – bubble and squeak with eggs and ham for me, and mum tucked into French toast with banana, strawberries and yoghurt – we highly recommend it.
And then it was time to head home, taking the train back via Hungerford Bridge and my favourite view of the city.
I may have found something that I love. No, nothing food-related! Beach huts.
Beach huts in Bournemouth to be precise.
The other weekend I was in Bournemouth for a hen party weekend. And in between drinking fabulous cocktails, dancing and partying until 4am, I managed a quiet walk along the beach.
If you are ever in Bournemouth and awake at 7am on a Sunday morning, grab your camera and walk along to Boscombe. The nicest walk I have done in ages. I think being on my own, after being with friends since Friday morning (at work), was just what I needed. I need a little bit of space on my own and I had been itching to do this walk since arriving in Bournemouth.
Oh! And because it was a hen party AND St Patrick’s Day weekend, it seemed only right to be dressed in a green tutu. Photo not the best (I look like a supermodel usually!) but you get the idea! Mock if you must!
Are you following me on Twitter or Pinterest? If not, then click on the links. It would make my day, possibly my week too!
A couple of years ago I used to take an exercise class which started with weights and then turned to stretches and the first song always used to be Sunrise by Nora Jones. I hated that song. Now I don’t mind it it reminds me of the thirty minutes of peace and calm I used to afford to myself once a week.
Anyway, mum and I were in the park for an autumn sunrise the other day. The photos don’t do it justice.
This tree holds such good memories. I am old enough to remember when the tree was upright. I love that it continued to grow on its side after the hurricane of ’89. It’s also where one of our earliest photos of Violet was taken.
Only three photos I hear you wonder? Yes. Only three to show (lots taken but of the same view and I’m sure you don’t want to see those!). I wanted to take theese photos and show you how beautiful Richmond Park is at sunrise or sunset or anytime, but the deers are in season and doing their thang which means that they chase each other around alot and are downright dangerous to cross. Mum and I had to hot foot it out of the park quite quickly!