Rebirth

Right now, four of my dearest friends are gathered in Richmond Upon Thames.  It's 9 o' clock in the evening and I'm sure they are gathered at Abbie's local, enjoying a fantastic pub dinner and a few bottles of Sauvignon Blanc.

Abbie's husband, Jamie, is no doubt due to pop in any minute now to join the three Scottish lasses and the lovely South African for a pint (and to try his best to keep them under control so that the next time he goes in for a drink, he won't receive another report from the bar keep that his wife  "needs to kept under control...").

Up until now, I've managed to hop the pond and be the fifth wheel on these girly weekends.  I've flown to London, Glasgow and Edinburgh to spend just a few days (or hours!) in the company of my friends and likewise, they've joined me for mad NYC shopping weekends, beach days, and cabin retreats.  What can I say? We're a package deal.

Until now.

Tomorrow morning they'll recap their night out over tea and porridge at Giraffe but there will be a coffee missing amongst those four teas.

A coffee and me.

As you know, I'm 26 weeks pregnant but it's not the pregnancy itself that kept me joining my girls, it's the expense.

With a baby on the way, we're trying really hard to watch our finances.  When Karen first emailed us all to say she would be in from Abu Dhabi on business in London, I immediately went to Kayak and checked ticket prices, telling myself that if it was under $500, I would convince Matty that I needed to go.

But the price wasn't under $500.  It was no where close; the cheapest ticket was $900 and even I couldn't justify that at this time, particularly not when we spent a ridiculous amount on our summer tickets to Scotland.

So here I am on the couch watching Oprah while my girls catch up on one another's lives: Karen's recent trip to Portugal; the status of the offer Abs and Jamie made on their dream home; Heather's rising career at the Royal Bank of Scotland; the opening of Yolandie's bistro and her upcoming move back to SA.

And I'm miserable.

I miss them so much; there's nothing, NOTHING that compares to the moments I've shared with these girls.  I don't know what it is, but there is just something special about our friendship that when I am in their company, I feel whole.

I'm trying hard to keep my sadness and jealousy in check but considering how hormonal I am, it's not easy because this is the first time that it's really hitting me: I'm having a baby and my life is about to change exponentially and I'm not quite sure I'm ready for that change.

I'll get there, I know, but it won't be this weekend.

I guess Bebe's birth will have to be my rebirth because at that point, I'll have no other option...

Londontown

Greetings from London! We arrived at Heathrow 

Sunday morning and were met at the gate by 

our dear friends Cliff and Yolandie.  Usually,

I make my way from airports to flats via public 

transport; there is nothing better than an airport 

pick-up when traveling abroad - what a treat!

London is divided into villages and theirs, Hackney,

 is tucked delightfully in the heart of the East End, near 

what is reputed as the oldest public park in Britain, Victoria.

Think Williamsburg (Brooklyn), during the early 

days of its hipster gentrification and that's Hackney.

Yol styling me on my wedding day

Yolandie is a delight: a tiny, South African fashionista

with a flair for friendship and entertaining; her husband

Cliff is every American girl's dream of an Englishman,

replete with accented charm and a smile that melts.

Ignore that look on my face

I love it when my friendships become ours; the

 couple came north for our wedding week and it 

was Cliff who, along with the husbands of two of my other 

dear friends, stood alongside my husband drinking

whisky pre-ceremony and shook his hand afterward.

Logically, it made sense for us to make a detour to 

London this summer, en route to the Isle of Mull.

After a cat nap to counter our sleepless journey 

(for who can rest when Hot Tub Time Machine* 

is an option?), we sat down to a meal prepared 

from the cookery book above - a book I feel may 

just turn my culinary visions into realities because

its recipes are divided into 47 menus, thereby lessening

the creative burden many of us novice cooks suffer.

We then enjoyed a night cap of fresh apple cobbler,

served warm with lovely vanilla ice cream and the four

of us headed off to bed in order to rise early and brunch

at one of London's delightful eateries before Matty 

and I head to King's Cross to board our train north.

This is London.

* Matt, that's who...