I picked up my houseguest from Heathrow’s T5 last night.
We stopped at the Oxford motorway services on the way back, for coffee and a chat, because I felt it was important that she and I had a good opportunity to suss each other out before we got anywhere near the house.
It was, after all, the first time we’d met.
She’s shorter than I’d imagined. And way thinner. And cuter, in a pixie-ish sort of way.
We chatted, we quickly established a relationship, we finished our coffee and drove home.
She loved the room I’d prepared for her, we chatted more until it was time to call it a day and went to our respective beds.
I did not have a good night due to my over-active, hyper-analytical brain going in to overdrive. However, in happier news, the massive amounts of deconstructing/reconstructing that did go on, last night, have helped clarify things for me.
Today, my German houseguest has had a day of it.
We bobbled our way in to town this morning, where the staff at Hacketts threw open their doors in welcome, and forced us to eat this:
Breakfast at Hackett's
It was tough, but someone’s got to do it.
After breakfast my houseguest declared a need to walk it off. No shit, Sherlock.
So we nipped over to Burford, where we wombled down the High Street, pootled around the back of Church Lane, dawdled back on to the High Street, wandered over the much-flooded bridge, then wandered *back* over the much-flooded bridge, then meandered up the High Street on the other side of the road.
The internationally-renown Burford Formation Car-Parking Team at work
Were we found Huffkins. And bought Lardy Cakes. In retrospect this was Not A Good Move.
With cakes safely locked in the boot of the car, and with my houseguest saying she needed to walk more, we drove almost to the yard where Sicknote Vin (as he has been renamed) lives.
I say ‘almost’ because I parked-up some distance out, and we walked down to the stables.
As we approached the main block, Hayley was leaving for lunch. She tried to run me over.
What a funny girl she is.
We had a chat. She took the piss. Plus ça change.
My houseguest and I wandered in to Vin’s stable and threw five metric fucktons* of carrots down his throat.
He looks a bit sorry, after banging himself around on Friday, but his appetite hasn’t diminished and this, frankly is a good sign.
Then we wandered around a bit.
I introduced houseguest to various folk as ‘someone I found wondering the streets’.
I’m glad my sense of humour is still intact.
Now and then.
I got invited to a Christmas party.
A Christmas party?
It’s 16th October!
Anyway, I said yes.
We nipped back to Vin to dole out another pat on his neck and some more carrotage, and then we drove to Charlbury for a bit of shopping, then drove up Leafield Hill, where we had a long walk around the cross-country course, and admired the views over the valley.
From there we drove down to the Cotswold Water Park, where we ambled around a lake and looked at boats.
She sails, my houseguest.
When we got home and unpacked the car, the Lardy Cakes made themselves known.
A swift mug of tea and a Lardy Cake each later, and suddenly, neither of us is hungry any longer.
Nevertheless, there may be a snack soon.
How was your day?
* This statement may contain traces of lie. A smaller amount may have been fed to the orange chap.