On lunches and friendships
Lunch is great, isn’t it? I don’t just mean the homebaked sourdough toast, tinned sardines and marinated artichokes as the sun pours its goodness onto your plate through the kitchen windows, and a glass of red would be just the ticket but it’s 1pm and you’re alone at home with things to do and read, although those are good.
No. I mean the lunches where you catch up with a friend you haven’t seen for a while. Perhaps you’ll have a glass of wine. Just one. You’ll both have so much to say, about family, about politics, about what you’ve been up to, about the state of the world AGAIN. Suddenly you’ll notice it’s getting late and your parking is about to expire, or your dog will be missing you and asking for his supper, or you remember your range anxiety and that you’d better find a charging station before it gets dark. I enjoyed two of these lunches this week and felt much better for checking in with kindred spirits in this confusing, conflict-ridden world.
Lunch is starting to be much more appealing for me than dinner because there’s no added grind about running for a crowded and stinky train or having to do the washing up and take the dog out when all you really want to do is curl up in your cosy bed.
I realise, to my consternation, that I have become one of those old people that we used to mock when we were checking out wedding venues perambulating with their cushions into that week’s posh restaurant. I stopped having a starter, a main course and a pudding years ago to kid myself that I was saving my weight. This week I found myself filling up on only a starter and, it must be said, a cheeky pudding. At the second lunch on Friday we asked for ONE main course and and two plates between us, much to the utter disgust of the waiter. When did portions get so big?
So we shared this huge haddock, C and I, and counted out the chips to be scrupulously fair about it. And we each had a pudding, thereby sticking out our tongue to the world. I suppose that I have reached the life stage where I can choose to order what I want, and it feels good. And I’m drawing my close friends, old and newer, into a little knot, a safe, friendly, space where we can meet and share our fears and worries without fear of angry judgement and contradiction because there is already too much of that outside this knot, and we are pulling tighter every time we see each other.
My little friendship knot was brought into relief this week by someone who is in the process of making friends with me. D is a fellow dogmum whom I’ve run into a few times in the park this year. Our dogs enjoy each others’ company and play well together, and we chat as they romp.
Early on D told me that she was a therapist and that she voted for Brexit just because she was confused and didn’t know how to vote. You, Dear Reader will surmise how I felt about that, but I tried hard not to judge this new friend on the basis on one poorly-researched but destructive act and set aside my initial feelings. We have walked and chatted a few times more recently and got to know each other better. We discover that we both value directness and transparency, though I prefer a certain finesse when I’m talking to someone I don’t know very well.
TL;dr, this week D asked me whether my having a “purebred” dog ie. instead of a rescue was because I was a materialistic person. I was quite taken aback, and really rather irritated to find myself yet again on the back foot explaining my life to someone has made all sorts of assumptions about me just by looking at my dog. D clearly and sincerely believes that rescue dogs are better than puppies from breeders and I understand her sentiment. I sort of feel that way myself but Things Are Usually More Complicated Than That. At no point have I criticised or insulted her beautiful rescue dog so I resent that she’s judging me for mine. Apparently I have enough wisdom now to choose a rescue dog next time, she says.
What other stories was she writing about me in her head? What sort of character judgments was she making based on the information I’d told her without guile? Here we go again. I realise that when people do this then it it is all about them, about their insecurities and their prejudices.
I learnt pretty early on that it’s dangerous to make assumptions about people because how on earth can you know what the puzzle picture looks like from only one piece? I set aside my initial dismay at her voting choice to see the bigger picture. Her bigger picture of me was drawn in yellow highlighter.
Life is too short to tolerate people who have to put me down to feed their own inadequacy and this is where I like to go back to my little friendship knot, that has now been pulled just that bit tighter.
Festive cooking
This week I have finally made my Christmas cake. I haven’t made one for decades, largely because I’ve found all that business with brown paper and string far too intimidating. I’ve been inspired by the thought of the new Aga, however, and I was planning to use it to make my cake last week in Norfolk, but the installation delay made me change my plans.
I was pretty proud of my Blue Peter-esque papercraft in the end. Just take it steadily, Gita, and it will be fine. The cake baked for 4.5 hours and is now steaming gently in a Cointreau fog. I don’t even like fruit cake, really, but I’m optimistic that this one will be different.
Puppy love
We met S’s puppy this afternoon. She’s a bold little thing and such a cutie! After a little bit of apprehension when Fergus accidentally tipped her over, she was spoiling for a game with him. Though her big character is already quite apparent, she is still very smol, and he is a very big boi, so we’ll leave the playdates until she’s a little older.
Elephant in the room
I am not daring to talk here about Tuesday’s momentous election. Like many others, I’m holding my breath and trying not to tempt fate because who knows what will happen? That things have come to this point where half of voters seem to prefer an egregious slug is incomprehensible. Let us hope that sense and compassion prevails and that the US picks the correct President.
Have a good week
G x
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