A Weekend at Home
Being part of generation rent, I often find myself on a Friday afternoon or evening packed in with commuters heading towards home home. Now home home is something we use amongst my friends when describing where our parents live. I’m pretty sure it started at University to distinguish where you would be spending the weekend. The rented accommodation we call home now is where we stumble back to either from a boozy dinner party or from a long week at work but home home is where, for me, my Mum is. Now it doesn’t have to technically be the house you grew up in, it’s more the place where there’s wine, food and gin readily available.
Also when you feel stuck in a rut (as I currently do), there’s nothing like escaping the (London) grind and getting some fresh air. Luckily for me, Mum lives between both coast and countryside so fresh air is a plenty. So on Saturday morning we headed down towards Prinsted. It really is a lovely spot for a walk, sitting just above Thorney Island and when the sun comes out... gorgeous, just gorgeous.
Another of my favourite spots when down with Mum, is Stansted Park. The Pavillion Tearoom is worth a visit alone but now there's a new farm shop, equally full of delicious treats, to mooch around. There's also the House, the Grounds and Garden Centre to keep you busy, a worthy place to spend a Saturday. The tearoom does breakfast but only until 11am which we found out, much to our dismay and as our stomachs started to grumble with impatience, we grabbed a freshly baked loaf of sourdough (and some giant chocolate buttons for good measure) and headed home for tea and toast.
Good food and walks are the norm when I’m home, as I’m sure it's the same for many and it does the soul good. Whilst I don’t feel like I’m completely out of my rut, I’m tackling it well fed and well rested.