Friday, 7 August 2009

A Drowned Rat

Yesterday was not a good day for me. It would have been my Dad's 85th birthday and birthdays and anniversaries are never good days. To make things worse, my Dad was a twin, and his twin sister, who is also my Godmother, lives thousands of miles away in South Africa so my phone call to her to wish her a Happy Birthday is always a difficult event for both of us.

I had decided earlier in the day that I would go out for a meal to a local Italian restaurant in order to try to do something nice on this difficult day. I haven't been out for a meal (apart from the occasional lunch with friends) for more than a year and I knew that the food would be good and with the walk to the restaurant less than 10 minutes, it was not going to mean travelling far.

I got myself ready to go out and the rain started. It wasn't just a shower; it was a torrential downpour but there was no way that I was going to miss out on my evening out. I'm still having to use a walking stick to help me get about at the moment and the thought of trying to manage an umbrella too was more than I could cope with, so I put on my waterproof jacket (which in addition to having a hood actually extends almost down to my knees) and decided to brave the weather. I was about half way there when the rain, which was already beating down quite hard, became something akin to the monsoon. The rain was bouncing off the ground and rivers of rainwater were flowing down both the road and the pavement I live in an area that is rather hilly).

By the time that I arrived at the restaurant I felt like a drowned rat. Water was dripping off my jacket and the legs of my trousers were soaked. However, I was determined that I would do my best to enjoy my all too rare evening out and decided that I would try to forget how wet I was and how depressed I have been over the last few weeks. I received a friendly welcome and the food was superb.

By the time that I had finished my meal of garlic mushrooms, fillet steak in a green peppercorn sauce, and profiteroles (to hell with eating healthily for one evening) the rain had eased a little, but it was still pouring down sufficiently for me to realise that I was going to get wetter on the way home. My trousers were still soaking wet and I knew that they were going to be absorbing more water on that short walk home.

I arrived home in a jacket which seemed to have lost the battle as far as keeping me dry was concerned. So once I was indoors I took off all my soaking wet clothes and wrapped myself up in my lovely warm dressing gown. The clothes were hung up to dry and I decided to watch a DVD or two before going to bed.

By that time I didn't look quite so much like a drowned rat.


Achelois said...

Seems its not only me that enjoys Italian. Funny how some days blogs make me hungry again.. take care and loving the knitting.

Anonymous said...

I am glad you went out, I hope to start going out more since mum died I seem to have stopped doing many things such as going to the cinema and out alone... I really will make an attempt to see Julie and Julia with Meryl Streep when it comes to the UK cinema and perhaps treat myself to dinner afterwards.

It must be hard for you with your dad having a twin as well, bringing back so many memories when you speak with her on their birthday. My own Godmother was my mum's closest friend since she ws six years old she's 81 this year so speaking to her is often hard. I plan to take her out for a meal in the coming week and take her to see mum's memorial.