After wandering into town yesterday afternoon while the rest of the clan were at a “Teddy Bear’s Picnic” (best not to ask), I picked up some food for dinner from the supermarket. It’s probably worth noting that during my brief interlude in the giant supermarket in town I got walked into by strangers several times - enough times in fact to make me consider exploding at the next person to do it. Of course I didn’t, because I’m not as ignorant as the old, or morbidly obese person that pretended not to notice me as the shuffled along the supermarket isle, huffing and puffing. Not even a sorry.
With various podcasts filling my ears, I wandered home via the back streets, lost in my own thoughts. A little while after returning home, the teddy bears, little people, and my better half arrived home. While I boiled the kettle, she looked in the fridge…
“Oh, you’ve been shopping”
“Yes… what did you think I’ve been doing? Sitting on my backside all day?”
I delivered her cup of tea with a snarky grin, and set about pulling the various goodies from the fridge, warming the oven up, and clearing the various plates and cups that had accumulated in the sink. While doing so, there came a knock on the door, and a familiar voice drifted down the hallway. I leaned over from sink, and shouted “COME IN!” to the picture of loveliness the girls were holding hostage on the doorstep.
“What are you doing for dinner?”
I pointed at the line of packet curries and rice which were yet to make it into the oven.
They didn’t make it into the cooker - they went straight back into the fridge. We somehow got invited out for the evening with friends - invited to sit in their garden, eat pizza, and drink wine. So we did.
It’s funny really - while pondering what I might write about on the blog yesterday lunchtime, I quietly knew that “life” is always the best subject - the most interesting. The only real requirement of writing about “life”, is that you have to have a life. Sitting indoors, pouring over a computer, doesn’t really provide much in the way of stories, anecdotes, or humorous happenings to impart. Sitting in your friend’s garden until nearly midnight while drinking enough wine to sink a battleship, and realising you are pretty damn lucky to have such awesome friends, does provide something to share.
Lucky isn’t really the word. Astounded probably fits my appreciation of the world around me better. I spend so much time inside my own head that I rarely “look up” and realise what surrounds me. Last night I did. I’m pretty sure the wine had something to do with unlocking that part of me, but then I’m completely sober this morning, and the feeling has remained more strongly than ever. I have awesome friends. Unlikely friends. We didn’t actively go looking for each other; we lived within a few hundred yards for years before the children crossed our paths.
As the sky grew dark last night and we sat together watching the stars appear overhead, I realised how lucky I am.