Lost in notation blog

Day 57 – Monochrome in my market town home

February 28, 2010 at 12:12 am (bipolar, Charity, dresses, Employment, Fashion, Fine dining, Friendship, Job hunting, Long distance relationships, Loving, make up, Manchester, Manners, Market Harborough, Motherhood, photography, Style, Uncategorized, Unemployment) (http://www.aga-web.co.uk/, http://www.ascoughsbistro.co.uk/market-harborough-restaurant/)

I want to tell you all about the delights of my day.  About the interview I had with a small locally based paper who are looking for a senior reporter with multimedia skills and the ability to hunt down a story.   After having a little think however I think it is probably best if I don’t; I am scared of getting my hopes up and so hopefully one day soon I will be able to share the experience with you as even if I don’t get the job it was without a doubt the most enjoyable interview I have ever had.

For the first time in weeks the family and I are getting on rather well.  There was a great energy in the home which only a near  full house can provide.  As my mother and brother attempted to unnot a 50 meter climbing rope sausages were sizzling in  the Aga which me and my little brother kept trying to pinch even though we were due to head out for dinner.  Even the giant and I were getting on quite nicely thanks to him taking my attempts to steal one of the four cars in the drive in good humour.  My new tact to get a car back is to just keep asking for lifts everywhere, so far it is having little effect but I shall persevere.

When you come from a large family; the giant, the mother, two sisters and one brother chaos and high decibel chatter is just as soothing as a lullaby.  At University I used to put on regular Saturday morning brunch clubs to try to recreate the family unit of my childhood home where we all attempted to have a nice dinner but inevitably tiffs would break out and by the end of the meal our mother would lose her patience and demand we eat in silence.  Although the most fierce rows took place around the table they were also, and I think I speak for all of us, the location of our happiest memories and the place we learnt to speak up or get sidelined.  When there are four women in a household your ability to communicate becomes so acute you are able to skip quickly between different conversation topics, finish each others sentences and send the males into near meltdown by a sudden succinct tongue lashing about the need to put the toilet seat down gosh darn it.

During the week  I managed to book us into Ascoughs, Market Harborough’s greatest restaurant.  They do a great set menu for £15, less during the day, where you get two courses, plenty of vegetables, potatoes of the day and the all important baked that morning bread roll.  Although I have been on several occasions  with friends, family and former lovers never before have myself and the boy been together.  As today was our four-year anniversary I was delighted when I managed to get us in for a 9.15 setting, usually you have to book up to a month in advance if you stand any chance of getting a table, even on a week-night.

The boy was too kind to say, but just before I went to meet him at the station I checked the time of our meal in the diary and realised my mistake.  It is in-fact not our anniversary till tomorrow.  Oh dear.  As it was we had the table booked and I had spent too long on my make-up and prettifying myself to cancel the reservation so I thought I’d just not bother mentioning it.  The meal was utterly fantastic, apart from one unpleasant moment during my starter when a piece of pancetta lodged itself in my gum and I had to run to the toilet to stem the blood.  There is crispy then there is just cutting, the boy for once even let me give them feedback on this culinary assault which was present enough as he never usually lets me.

I love going out to eat with the boy, especially when we have been apart for some time as we have hours to catch up on what we have been up to.  He had also had an interview so we chatted late into the night and were the last to leave the place at midnight.  I am a terribly slow eater, mainly because I am a chatter box and when I was young I was always put on the slow eaters table which I think is just  a recipe for an eating disorder.  I hate rushing my food particularly when it has been put together so carefully as it is at Ascoughs and can’t bear rushing a meal, I do not see the point.  

Other than the lovely food, what I love about going on “dates” with my love is the little gestures he makes to show he still cares; he pulls my chair out for me; helps me into my coat and once I have decided what I want he will even order for me.  In spite of all the feminist bravado there is something terribly romantic about such gestures and it is lovely to relinquish control, though I always am the one to taste the wine.  We had a lovely evening but are both terribly tense about the result of our respective interviews and although we wanted to share our experiences we were both trying so hard not to get our hopes up particularly as the jobs we have applied for will place us further apart.  The die is rolled for both of us, they are our dream jobs but I do wish they were in the same Zip-code.