Lunch with Sarah and Nick

A glorious day. Absolutely perfect for visitors. The garden looked verdant, the house sparkled, the extension looked like it was designed to look.

I went up to the shops early for the scallops and some fresh bread while Mirinda headed off for guitar class.

Back at home I put the tagine on (it has to cook for a couple of hours) and spent the rest of the morning tidying up. Mirinda picked up our guests at midday and brought them back.

Sarah didn’t see the house before the extension but, even so, she made lots of appropriate noises about how wonderful it all looks now. Of course Mirinda took them both on a tour while I finish up preparing lunch. By the time I called them in, they’d made it to the back of the garden. I called them and then put the scallops on for the three minutes they take to cook.

So, the new, nut-free menu was amended to:
Scallops with chilli and coriander
Lamb tagine (without toasted almonds) with jewelled couscous
Syllabub with shortbread

There was no need for any quick, life saving injections and the meal was enjoyed by all.

We also enjoyed a lovely chat over lunch and a couple of bottles of wine. I’d never met Nick before and so had some catching up to do. He used to be a theatre director so we all have quite a bit in common.

After lunch, we grabbed the dog leads and headed up to the Park for the beginning of the obligatory tour of Farnham. Of course, the Park looked perfect. There was even a game of cricket going on, which Nick wanted to watch for a while. In fact, Nick wanted to stop and watch all the sports we passed. He even had a gander at the bowls club, declaring that the cricket had been more exciting. Mirinda was only slightly convinced.

After walking through Lion and Lamb Yard, we wound our way through Church Lane to St Andrews. I sat outside with the girls while they popped inside for a quick look at our lovely church. Then we settled down at the Maltings Riverside Cafe for a latte. While the day had been deliciously warm and sunny, in the corner we sat in on the terrace at the Maltings, a chill wind blew almost constantly, freezing us unnecessarily.

Determined to convince them that Farnham is the perfect Georgian town, we took them home via the ugliest bit where we found the tennis courts and carpark which flooded just after it was built on the water meadow last year.

Eventually the time came for our guests to head up to the station for the trip home and I collapsed onto a recliner. Exhausted.

And here’s the last of the shortbread.