the Dual Carriageway, the Treacle Tart and the Glorious New Song

Good morning from my sunny little corner- the sun is beaming in through the door to the garden, the cat is scampering/prancing/jumping like a mental and I have a spring in my step (well I would if I was walking around, but that makes typing difficult)

There are several reasons for my chirpy mood.

a) It is sunny
b)I have discovered some new music recently and am in that first flush of love for a song that I cannot get to the end of without starting it again, like a child watching a Disney film.
c) I spent the entire weekend in a dressing gown.

Let me elaborate (I know that's what you wanted, I could sense it)

Actually, there isn't much elaborating to do on point a)- I think it's pretty standard for sunshine to make people happy. Unless, of course, there is a huge life threatening drought. That doesn't seem to be the case here

b) The song that is making my heart sing is this song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wsdC74-t2s

I was introduced to this album last night and woke up thinking about it. I will be taking this beautiful sound with me wherever I go today. ( I will take my headphones out when talking to people, but only if I think they are interesting enough to get my full attention. Otherwise they are staying IN) I love the first day of having found a new song-it feels like an exciting new relationship that you want to tell everyone about. I sometimes like to pretend I'm in a film when going about my daily business and enjoy choosing appropriate music for varying levels of emotional situations (Fleetwood Mac when running for a bus, for example)

Today's film will be a lovely one.

c) My weekend in a dressing gown was not due to me spending 2 days in some sort of sex nest. My husband was not involved at all. In fact, he was very understanding of the whole thing.

Two years ago, on my hen do (I hate the word 'do' in reference to a party, but I am going to bare it for the purposes of this sentence) I headed to Crawley for the weekend with 14 of my favourite people. Forget Prague, forget Paris, forget Blackpool-Crawley, my friends, is where the COOLIES hang out. And the coolies wear DRESSING GOWNS.

We spent the weekend in a wooden lodge somewhere leafy and wonderful just outside of Crawley. There is a golf course, there is a health club, there are some wonderful little lodges made out of wood that have underfloor heating. Three days were spent wearing dressing gowns, eating crisps and laughing til we cried at my cousin Catherine trying to hum the baseline from 'Good Vibrations.'

This time it was very similar.

There was four us returning to the lodges-we were four women desperate for a break. It's often so easy to forget the need for planning some time in to just 'be.' I spend so much time fitting one thing in to another in my schedule, ending up in a neverending game of Diary Tetris. This weekend was exactly what I needed.

All three days involved wearing elasticated waistband 'leisure trousers' until roughly 7pm, then changing in pyjamas. You'd be right in thinking that those two outfits are basically the same.

The highlight for me was the discovery of a present in silver paper, hidden in my luggage by my husband. What is it? I thought. Some treats for dinner? A little love note?

Wrong.

As if I wasn't already sure enough that I had married the right person, I opened the parcel to find a very small red and blue silky cape. My awesome husband had guessed, quite rightly, that the thing missing in my life is the finishing touches to my new Superman pyjamas.

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's a woman in her 30s wearing pyjamas designed for a child.

And a CAPE.

It goes without saying that my fellow lodge- dwellers set me a selection of superhero tasks to perform whilst in my heroic outfit, although I did find the cape a little snug in the neck area (for 'snug' please read 'slightly strangling.') This was due to the fact that it was designed for a 5 year old. I also find it highly amusing that my husband and I now own the rest of the outfit which he had to buy along with the cape. I have thought about dressing up the cat but I'm not sure she'll enjoy it as much as I would.

When not performing deeds of pyjama based bravery, we spent our time doing exactly what we wanted. Our motto of 'There is no judgement in Crawley' meant that no activity/ lack of activity/ strange choice of snack food/ excessive amount of snack food was frowned upon. Yes we ate treacle tart ALL DAY. But what happens in Crawley stays in Crawley.

Highlights were the face masks that made us look frighteningly like we were recreating the Black and White Minstrel Show, a few rounds of The Humming Game (no Beach Boys this time but there was a wonderful and surprising rendition of various 80s drum solos through the medium of hum) a country ramble that took us over a dual carriage way and through an estate, and the perfect and precious gift of a bit of quiet. I spent a few hours alone, just reading, just being. It was heavenly. The sun shone, the treacle tart seemed neverending, the box of wine made it impossible for us to tell exactly how much we'd actually drunk.

Perfect.