This morning, M and I rather blearily roused ourselves from the spare bedroom where we slept last night, our insides still marinating in too much red wine, coffee and Bailey’s. Yike! We were, however, determined to get ourselves a Valentiney breakfast before having to go our separate ways for another 24 hours.
Some advice? Don’t drive from Oakleigh South to Hampton down North Road at 8.30am. It promotes frustration and impatience, which can only be tempered [sorry] by calming Valentiney thoughts of breakfast.
We were thwarted in a few ways, but I was stout of heart, as my horoscope had said that pretty much, Valentines Day would be a write off and plans would go awry. Urchin Bar was shut, and after a few more attempts, we ended up at Brown Cow, where they sometimes get it right.
The eggs were great. M’s first coffee was lukewarm. My chai latte was too overly sweet to finish. M’s second coffee was perfecto. The hash brown I ordered for THREE DOLLARS EXTRA was just one of those MacDonalds looking pre-frozen jobbies – perfect for my sore head, but nil on the scale of innovation. M and I bitched happily to each other and dreampt about holidays, long boats and outdoor showers.
M resisted the second hand bookshop over the road (the esteemed Bound Words and I did not go into the shoe shop opposite which was having a 50% off sale. We are trying to be frugal. And I didn’t even sneak back later when M had gone….
I’m typing this in the Humber, sitting outside a Thai place where I’ve ordered some takeaway. I’m not sure why, over the past four years, I always seem to end up scavenging for food on my own while I’m away for work. Sometimes it gets old.
Happy Valentines M – I miss you!