Weekends away are rare in my life. And I'm a firm believer in making the most of the time spent away, with friends and family. For me, this is heavily related to mealtimes. I love nothing more than to wake in my short term bed, in my (hopefully) charming accommodation and think about all the yummy things I'm going to eat that day. Because I'm on holiday, and it's special. So that might mean three quite hefty meals, and a few snacks. Two coffees. Not to mention 5pm nibblies. Which brings me to number 2.
What would a weekend away be without a few drinks with friends? Especially now Febfast is long gone. Together this weekend, we shared a few bottles. There were 10 adults, so one bottle of wine didn't go very far, leading to many trips to the recycling bin. Almost every weekend away I go on, we settle in at about 5pm for drinks and nibbles. Because it's special. And then we might have a few at dinner. Perhaps a dessert wine? I know it's not good for me. But I cannot lie, it was loads of fun. And yes I'm very stupid. And red wine is evil.
3. The kids.
Apart from the excitement of bag packing (Sarah brought 5 pairs of shorts and 3 pairs of long pants for 4 days), the foreign location (including long car or plane trip), the exploration of new digs and discovery of new/old friends, the kids just love a bit of a weekend away. This weekend, they went nuts, playing for hours together, at the beach, on a long walk, back at the accommodation. When the weather went bad, they all lay on each other like a litter of puppies and watched movies. They built a cubby house. They had pillow fights. They got on like a house on fire. Which leads me to point 4.
 |
| 10 years ago. Spot the Sarah. Extra points if you spot the duck. |
I am a lazy parent at the best of times. Therefore on a weekend away, I am almost catatonic. I cannot tell you if they bathed. I know they ate, but mainly meat and carbs, and chips, and chocolate. I would occasionally see them, but they weren't the slightest bit interested in me apart from as a source of food or something they had lost. Joshie hurt his foot and needed some TLC. I threw them a bit of cereal each morning, and gave them a cuddle when I saw them. They came and found me when they needed me. But mostly they didn't have the slightest interest in me or Mike. Not when there were 4 other families worth of kids to play with.
5. How fast it goes.
A weekend away is, by definition, only 2 days. Ours was extended for two days of driving ridiculous distances and yet still it flew. Friday we spent almost the whole day outside, taking the kids to the beach, walking around the town, and finished with a long dinner at a waterfront restaurant. Then yesterday at about one o'clock we settled in around the big table having a chat. It was rainy and a bit windy and we saw no reason to leave our comfortable position. Eight hours later, we were still there. Sure, there'd been a few journeys to the IGA, the chemist and the Thai restaurant in nearby Ocean Grove, but our fundamental position remained unchanged. We did make a move to the couches when a talented husband built a fire (it was very slightly chilly). Those hours flew, full of lots of laughter, subject hopping, discussions, and reminiscing.
6. How nice it is to be home.
I'm on my couch. In my house. The wind is having a bit of a howl outside. The unpacking is done, although unfortunately not the washing. We are home. We had a ball. All is well.
