Happy Easter everyone! This is a little bit of a bonus post; I thought it’d be fun to do a ‘day in the life of’ type thing. I don’t really have a typical day right now, since it’s currently the holidays, and to be honest there’s no such thing when I’m at university either because it all depends on how much writing I get done.
Yesterday we went to my aunt’s house for what turned out to be a massive family meal (I’m also going to another one tomorrow, because food = life) and I documented that, since eating does seem to be a massive part of my Easter break. Enjoy, and if you like it then it may well become a regular feature here.
|So tempted to make these Creme Egg brownies again! Recipe from Helen at lovecatsinc|
Discover, ten minutes after waking, that we won’t be having lunch till three. Decide to prepare enormous breakfast sandwich to compensate.
Squeal with delight when the egg does what it’s supposed to, instead of burning/breaking/getting all over the frying pan. Even Mum describes it as the perfect fried egg. Today is going to be a good day.
Today is not going to be a good day. Have less than twenty minutes to do my hair, put on make-up, get dressed, pack my bag and brush my teeth before we head into town for coffee. Did set my alarm half an hour early but spent that time stalking you lot on Intsa, oops.
Braid hair. Develop envy for everyone on Pinterest who can create an up-do without exposing their scalp #finehairproblems
Finally ready to leave! Somehow managed to do winged liner with thirty seconds to spare. Am Superwoman.
Arrive at coffee shop. Crushed by hug from Uncle Pete, who I haven’t seen since last year. “Hello, darlin, I love you.” To my brother he says, “Come here, you fat lump.”
Pete asks how my other half is. Awkwardness ensues – been single for over a year. Count blessings Nan isn’t here to drop hints about how much she wants me to have children.
Given an Easter egg by Mary, one of the volunteers, who tells me I’m ‘turning into a lovely young thing’. Heart warms all over. Pensioners are so sweet.
Pensioners are a bloody nightmare. Brave supermarket in search of last-minute gifts and they keep barging into me and not apologising.
Stop by the open day at my old dance studios to say hi. Students I think of as children are now teenagers. Feel incredibly old.
Watch open day showcase. Feel incredibly unfit.
Sign up for summer ballet classes. Heart says yes; bank account says no.
Car journey to Auntie Sue’s. Family singalong to Don’t Stop Believin’.
Feast begins half an hour earlier than expected. Collective sigh of relief. Starter is sweet potato soup with chorizo croutons. Didn’t realise chorizo croutons were a thing, but they are amazing, although my uncle mistook them for cat food.
Main course served. Roast lamb, mint sauce, vegetables, potatoes dauphinoise. Don’t even like potatoes but eat several helpings because of the cheese.
Interlude for awkward family photos.
Pudding. Spot my favourite New York cheesecake. Wolf down enormous slice.
Entertained by story of Auntie Sue falling off motorbike when pregnant with Cousin Kems. “That’s what did it,” quips Auntie Sandy.
Games are suggested.”I’m not playing any games,” says my uncle. “You don’t have to play, you can sit there and look fucking miserable,” my aunt replies with a wink.
Family game of The Chase. On team with Mum and little brother, ready to murder both. First question about domain names. They turn to me; wrong answer. Little brother throws box at my head.
We lose. Game ends.
Back to table for cheese and biscuits. Four courses?! Devour tomato and herb crackers with Wensleydale.
Car journey home. Family singalong to Valerie (the Mark Ronson/Amy Winehouse version).
Bathtime. Post-Lush Sex Bomb and the pink, princess-esque hue it turns the water, ordinary baths seem dull. Read Elle magazine and love Victoria Coren Mitchell’s column (as always).
Start typing up blog post.