Three Bears Brunch

Last year there was a pop-up at Victoria Station, The Porridge Cafe. Tim heard about it and we always said we'd go. He went with friends that came over from NL one weekend, and we planned to go on a Sunday, only to find it wasn't open on Sunday's. So I never got to go. They do amazing things with porridge, so I'm led to believe, so I followed them on Instagram and found out they were doing a one-off thing this weekend, entitled " The Three Bears Brunch". 

I invited K to go, and she was game. It was quite nice to have it all paid for beforehand too- the benefit of online booking. Originally I had wondered whether it could be a nice thing to do with the Sissies, but I've got one who doesn't connect well with others and one who hates eating out/being out in a city! So it was really nice that K wanted to go.

We haven't had a proper catch up for a few months, so it was nice to get time to chat properly. The food was lovely, and very small portions, which was a good thing. We had lots to talk about (as always!) and she encouraged me to organise my holiday. "You deserve it" is something she says a lot, and I think maybe I ought to try to make it my new mantra (within reason ;-)

After lunch we had a wander and K bought a few things to wear to work. I had planned to pop by Oxford Street on the way home, but after making the effort to go there, I realised I would have to hurry if I wanted to make the gym, so I left. 

I was home at 6pm, and at first I thought I might not go, but I decided to push myself as Sunday is the best session. And I felt quite energised. I caught up with friends properly as it was quite quiet which was nice. The only bad thing was someone I don't know had a "proper" accident, and by proper, I mean proper. He was doing double fronts on the trampoline, and somehow managed to knee himself in the face. He emerged, well, had to be helped from the pit, limping and with blood running down his face from his head. It was horrible, just really sad, as it was a nasty shock for him and he's only young. But M, the coach is 80 and very experienced with this sort of thing, so there was no fuss. We just felt sorry for him, and it served as a reminder that it is a rather dangerous sport! He'll need a few stitches but he should be fine. 

I chose the main picture as once I booked the brunch, I realised that to get to it, the nearest tube would be Islington. It's not an area I know well, but I went there once in September. The weekend the "bad stuff" happened. And I remember it because Tim had been away the weekend before, and I was looking forward to seeing him. He came to meet me at Angel, right next to the flower stall. And when he did, he picked me up and swung me round. And then we walked hand in hand, talking, until we reached the pub where Sabrina and the others were. I remember it vividly. If only I had known what would happen less than 24 hours later. It's still hard to believe, nine months on. It was good that today I walked back with K, and because we were chatting, I didn't have time to dwell. Or I might have just stood still a moment, and let the memories wash over me. Instead I shall mark it with just a picture.

When I read this back in the future, I might look back and think how silly it all was. But at the moment it's still raw, and still very much in the present. Maybe I'm just a person who wears their heart on their sleeve, or perhaps I just feel things deeply. I don't have the answers.

It was a nice day today, so I shall hold on to that.