It was raining like mad when I finally woke up this morning, and as I watched the rain, I felt more and more desolate about not being able to toil on my allotment. I toyed with the idea of staying in bed and watching Mean Girls, aka 'living the dream', but I know from experience that it'd be great for the first couple of hours, but after a certain point, usually around 2pm, I'd feel I was wasting my life and have a minor existential crisis. I'm only allowed to stay in bed and watch Mean Girls if I'm ill, I've decided.
So I went to Morpeth, on the basis that it's closeish, and I've not really been before. I stumbled upon A CHOCOLATE FESTIVAL. But a weird thing happened. I was walking around all the delicious stalls and there was even a brownie specialist with loads of different flavours of brownies and also cake on a stick and good coffee and macaroons, and all I could think was 'Hmm, I want to go back to the other market that had all the plants'. So I did. And made some new friends:
(rue, lovage and burnet, to be exact. I'd bought seeds for the exact same herbs just a couple of weeks ago, but obvs I can't plant them yet, and these were just looking at me)
So I'm not sure if a) I'm incredibly mature now, ooo look at me with my hobbies that don't exclusively involve cake or b) I'm just obsessed with plants. I think it's b). I kept checking on them on the bus and getting odd looks even though this time, I wasn't actually talking to them, which I found unfair.
Felt pretty nervous while walking round town because it was so crowded, even though 'crowded' in Northumbrian is pretty much 'I could see more than 5 other people, and 3 of them I didn't recognise from somewhere else'. An incentive for becoming more sane is that I'll be able to cope in more densely populated areas. I can't believe I used to go into London after work for my Swedish lessons. I deserve a reward for that, ideally from the Swedish government, ideally in the form of 'honorary citizenship' or 'free coffee forever' or something.
Got back and tried to gain more Swedish points by celebrating Cinnamon Roll Day:
Obviously it was a burden eating delicious cinnamon swirls (nearly rolls), but I forced them both down.
I have been considering moving house a bit more, on a note unrelated to anything. I'm forever looking on RightMove because I'm obsessed with looking at houses even when I've got no intention of moving, but for various reasons I have started to think it might be better to get a bigger place, perhaps even with a spare room. It's unlikely to be before April, as I'm locked into a contract, but I shall keep my eyes peeled for other options. Can't believe I'll have been in this place two years soon. It'll be the longest I've lived in a place as a person independent of my parents, come to think of it. Trolled around from flat to flat as a student, then I was in the Buckinghamshire house of woe for 54 weeks (50 with hot water). I do like it. Visitors are often a bit shocked at how small it is, but I don't see it as that tiny. But if they go and build a Wetherspoons on my very doorstep, I might feel far more inclined to move.
Anyway, allotment toiling tomorrow. Hope I don't get carried away and build a small house out of all the wood buried beneath the weeds.