Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 11 degrees, cold, sunny and slightly overcast.
It is Sunday, usually a day of rest, with little to do, characterised by laziness and doing nothing.
But today is different. My mother had mentioned the day before that she wanted to use the grow bag and fertiliser she had bought to pot some plants, especially the lavender I had bought for her with Julie from the garden centre.
Julie will be out with her daughter all day attending a flower arranging course focused on wreaths at one of the top cafes in Stourbridge town centre. It’s the perfect opportunity for me to take a break from Julie, get on with my own things, which include some tasks for my mother, but mainly to relax without the pressure of trying to please too many people at once.
Sometimes, it can be hard and tiring to try to satisfy everyone you care about. I’m happy for Julie to enjoy some quality time with her daughter, and maybe later we’ll go out for a drink.
My mother got up around 9:30 or 9:45. I hadn’t exercised because I was still not feeling 100% from the cold that seems to be lingering. I thought it would have gone by now, but it hasn’t.
My mother told me what she wanted, so I repotted some plants, adding fresh soil, compost, and fertiliser into the pots, making a hole, creating a suitable environment for the plants. I then placed the plant in the pot, compacted the soil mixture around it, and finally watered it.
I also watered all the other potted plants and parts of the back garden. I then hoed around the edge of the lawn to refresh the soil and garden, and finally swept the path and the patio. I know I have said before that the garden really does look lovely. There is a beautiful contrast of large and small trees, the greens from them, and the more vivid colours of the plants around the edge of the garden that are coming into bloom.
I haven’t done any real gardening for over 40 years, but it has been a wonderful surprise for me to reconnect with the plants, nature, and the garden. It is quite calming, and seeing the results, knowing I had some influence, is truly very gratifying.
After cleaning everything up, my mother had prepared an early lunch, which was ‘Bangers and Mash‘, sausages and mashed potato, for the non-English. Still, she had also included peas, carrots, French beans, gravy, and a Yorkshire pudding. How good is that!
There was a lot of food, too much, but it was very tasty. I enjoyed my supposedly simple Sunday lunch despite it being a lot.
In the early afternoon, I went upstairs to relax and watch a sequel to a Netflix film. It was much better than I had expected, although I wasn’t as absorbed in it as I had hoped. I’ve been thinking about tomorrow being my birthday and reflecting on what’s happened over the past year since my last one.
Many changes have taken place, so perhaps it is better to write about tomorrow, my birthday, as I move from one year to the next, tomorrow and not today. My new year begins tomorrow, just like everyone else’s, which starts on their birthday rather than the 1st of January.
Julie sent me a couple of messages in the afternoon, along with a few photos of the wreath she had made, which looked quite beautiful. She was going to have lunch at home with her daughter and grandson, enjoying quality time with her family. For me, it wouldn’t have been necessary for us to meet that evening, but later on, she insisted that she wanted to see me and said she would be picking me up in an hour.
I think she picked me up around 7:00 p.m., a bit late for anything serious, even though it was still light and would remain so for at least another hour. Since it was pretty late in the northern hemisphere until sunset, it was still relatively chilly.
She wanted to go to the old Wharf at the bottom of Stourbridge, walk along the canal, which we both enjoy doing a lot, and then have a quick drink in ‘The Old Wharf pub’ before heading home.
When we parked the car, she thought maybe it was too late and too cold to go for a walk, and it would be better to head straight to the pub. I believe she had already decided that earlier, but she only just told me now. For me, it’s all fine, and I really don’t mind.
From the outside, the old wharf pub doesn’t look anything particularly special. It is a low, two-storey building painted in white, with some green or grey highlights on the doors and windows. The main door is a small, old-style farmhouse latch door, which, when pressed down, lifts to open.
You enter an open-plan layout with the bar greeting you in the centre, surrounded by the main lounge and with left and right wings encircling the bar.
Everything was a mix of contemporary rustic taste, not too rustic that it becomes over-themed, just the right level of good taste for it to be rustic with a touch of modernity and minimalism. The walls are a greyish off-white. This was a discussion between Julie and me; we even asked Dan the barman, who was a charming and helpful fellow, who, for my support, thought they were off-white walls with a tinge of grey.
I ordered a glass of red wine, and Julie had half a pint of lager and lime, her favourite drink for the moment. We walked around the right-hand side of the lounge into a kind of extension, an annexe to the central part. There was a long, L-shaped sofa along the wall facing away from the bar.
I knew immediately that Julie would want to sit at the smallest part of the L-shaped sofa, at the end, far from everyone else, just the two of us alone. As soon as she saw it, as I suspected, that’s the place she wanted us to sit. We sat at the head of the table, facing the rest of the room.
She wanted to get close to me; I could tell she missed me a little, maybe even felt a bit guilty about us not going out sooner. I had no issue with that— we were good, we were stuck together, and the chemistry was nice.
Two men entered the pub and sat at the end of a long row of tables on our side of the lounge. They started playing dominoes on a lovely round table in front of the far window. The man with his back to us had two old dogs: a small white terrier and a beautiful old mix of Husky, probably with German Shepherd. Despite his age, the dog was quite majestic and charismatic in his own way—truly a very handsome old dog, somewhat like a George Clooney or a Sean Connery in the dog world.
Julie sorted out a treat for the dogs from her rucksack of stuff. I got up, walked the length of the room, and asked the owner if I could give the dogs some treats. He obliged, and I gave the dogs their just-earned rewards for being so friendly and well-behaved.
Julie and I were enjoying each other’s company; she fit perfectly under my arm, and I could feel how good we are together. We then noticed a couple who sat down about three or four tables from us. It was clear that they were autistic from their appearance, their mannerisms and the way they talked.
I noticed how loving and attentive they were with each other, I spoke to Julie about what I had seen and she told me that a minute ago she heard the girl saying to her boyfriend that the couple at the end of the sofa were beautiful, I hadn’t heard any of this but Julie had and then for some reason they were talking to us.
Hailey and Ian were a special couple, exceptionally kind and always willing to strike up conversations with us about anything and everything. Hailey approached us and spoke with us for more than ten to fifteen minutes. I couldn’t understand everything she said, but the interaction was very warming.
When she went back to sit beside Ian, she was very friendly and shook hands with us. What also caught my attention was Ian’s affectionate nature with Hailey; it was beautiful to see.
They sat together, with him always holding her hand or reassuring her physically by stroking her back; it was wonderful to witness. Julie talked about it, and we also spoke to Dan, the barman — an exceptionally nice young man, like Grant from the Market Tavern in Kingswinford.
I am beginning to think that maybe my girlfriend has a thing for barmen, first Grant, now Dan.
The time passed quickly; it was already last orders. We ordered a half, stayed for another half an hour, and then left. The car was parked at the back of the Wharf, in front of the canal, about 100 metres from the pub. It was dark and cold, the perfect time to really shake and smooch Julie with some kisses and affection. We both needed and wanted it.
Our kissing has improved a lot since the first night; we really do have good chemistry when we are together. She dropped me off, and I was in bed by 11:00 p.m.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
