Today started a little too early for my liking. Saturday was long, charming and full of love and friendship. It was craft and cake in Catford, and all sorts of lovely people were there. We picked Little Michelle up from Finsbury Park on our way down.
The food was sensational. Julie had made the elixir of life in the form of brownies filled with apricots and some kind of decadent chocolate sauce smeared all over the top which gave me the mother of all rushes, particularly when I discovered the combination of said brownies with a little spoonful of Julie's home made raspberry, tayberry and goodness-knows-what-else-berry jam. It was heavenly. Insanely so.
Aside from Julie, Sam, Michelle, Nathan and me, we were also graced with the wonderful presence of Tina, Abbie and Uncle Bill.
In the evening, Little Michelle, Uncle Bill, Nathan and I surged through ghastly traffic jams and rain storms to North London, where we ate Indian food and watched Strictly until very late. In fact, as we walked down to the Indian takeaway, Uncle Bill said it was already past her normal bedtime!
Little Michelle's Ben came to collect her at 11 or so, and joined us for chatter and the leftovers of the Indian food.
Before we knew it, it was 2am...
And then, before I knew it, it was 9am, and Nathan was getting up to head to Angel to run a knitting class. Nathan is becoming quite the celebrity knitter. He's been asked to run three classes at the Edinburgh yarn festival in February. The classes went on sale at 2pm yesterday and sold out in twenty minutes. He's the Take That of the knitting world!
Uncle Bill stayed the night, and we ate eggs and then walked through the woods and along the Parkland Walk up to Alexandra Palace. I still find it astonishing that you can walk the two miles from my house to Ali Pali without having to walk along a single road! I'm so lucky to live in North London.
I discovered a new cafe in the middle of Alexandra Palace Park. It's such a lovely little spot, surrounded by trees. It's not much more than a shack, really, but there are a few little chairs and tables under a veranda outside. The place is run by Italians and they play opera music, really loudly, which the cook joins in with, singing along at the tops of his lungs. For some reason I found it really moving. I can't believe such a charming spot is so close to my house.
We walked around the boating lake and then back home via Muswell Hill, where we bought salad, cheese and bread for a lovely Ploughman's dinner.
We spent the afternoon rehearing with Rosie in my bedroom. Rosie is singing a song from Em tomorrow night and Hilary did a brilliant session with us both, really shaping Rosie's vocal performance. She was highly complimentary about the song and thinks it's a hit. Giving a new song to the world is always frightening, so when the first person who hears it says they love it, there's a great sense of relief.
And so my eyes return to the blackened M4, the red lights of the cars in front floating in the misty darkness. Life, like the cars flashing past in the Eastern carriageway, is very fleeting. Tell someone you love them today. Go on. Because one day you'll wake up and you, or they, won't be there any more. The love remains, so spread it liberally.