This past weekend was just so wonderful, so so wonderful. But let me start from the beginning.
Rewind to last Thursday and you would have found me sobbing, not for the first time that week, in the loos at work. This is the spot frequented by most of my colleagues during the run up to Christmas when work just becomes TOO MUCH!
During a particularly tearful conversation with my Mum, she said that I needed a break and that I should take the train up north for the weekend to come and visit her. So that’s what I did. First thing on Saturday morning I rolled out of bed, into a starbucks for a gingerbread latte, and then onto the train bound for Lancashire.
I met my Mum at the station and she immediately whisked me off to a wedding dress shop. I knew we had planned this but I was not really feeling it. I’m only 5’2” and I expected wedding dress shopping to be completely humiliating – with dresses swimming on my little size four frame, dragging along the floor in sample wedding shoes that would inevitably be too big. After such an awful week I expected to look like a pale and exhausted child playing dress up with massive purple rings around my eyes from too many tearful bathroom breaks – so more like a child ghost, which everyone knows is the scariest kind of ghost.
Oh wow I was wrong. Wedding dress shopping is just the BEST!!! All that business about feeling like a princess and getting so excited for the big day, it’s all true! We were there for hours, trying on dress after dress – and once I got over the awkwardness of standing in front of a full length mirror in just pants and heels (note to self: next time wear bigger pants, like, Bridget Jones Big) and having the lovely lady pull on and off dresses like I was a doll – I think it turned into one of the best days I’ve had in a very long time.
Once we were finished at the shop, which is located in a sweet little town in the middle of nowhere in the North West, we headed to the pub. I have to be honest and say I have been procrastinating a bit on the wedding front, but my mum hasn’t! Not one bit. She ran me through her ideas, booking options, locations, cakes – she’s handling it all like a pro! I am so much in her debt. We sat there by the fire with a glass of wine and talked it all through, which made the whole thing seem so much less scary. The pub was empty but for us, and beautifully decorated for Christmas. The stress of the week seemed miles away.
The rest of the weekend we spent watching roughly about six hours of cooking programs, both Ottolenghi and Rick Stein, polishing off a bottle of bubbly between us, having a roast dinner, a long sleep in, and a walk along the Fells with some apple pie and hot chocolate to warm us up.
I love weekends like this, and next year I will make sure to plan more of them. Thanks for taking care of me, Mum!