On Sunday we met up with an old schoolmate of S, Jamie and his partner Alison and their little girl Caitlin. Things went well considering that S called Alison Alice for the first half hour. The funny thing is he might have gotten away with it (with his funny accent and all) if I hadn't roused on him. I just thought I should nip things in the bud so we didn't repeat the Polly/holly thing from my brother's wedding. I was also recovering from my fruitless stroll to the growers markets so I was a bit damp. We had planned on a lovely picnic in the park but as it was still raining we headed to our fav pub (the one that does the very tasty steak and ale pie). After Caitlin had a bite to eat and a nappy change which was supervised by Jack. She also liked his lounge chair and decided it was now hers. Jack seemed to take this well. At the pub she repaid his generosity by offering him a range of canapes such as strawberries (he handed them to S), grapes (again handed them to S) and cold peas (on the floor). They sat up in their high chairs like royalty and had a chat and did I take any photos? No. What was I thinking?
The pub was quiet (I thought there would be lots of punters there for the Sunday roast) but it was a bank holiday weekend (again) and I think most people had gone to places that were sunny, like Scotland. So, the pub was quiet except for some very vocal Leeds supporters who picked up on my telepathy and headed off to catch the next train to Leeds.
After a huge lunch (as Noel would say, enough food to choke a horse) we wandered down to the growers markets and perused and purchased. I think Jamie was happy because although he'd had a pie for lunch he persuaded Alison to get a pie for dinner (and a fruit pie as well). He's assimilated well (he knows the proper way to pronounce Berkshire) but he's still loves a pie.