53 and counting in Chatters

I felt every bit as old as being married for 53 years might suggest when I woke this morning, though that was probably my resorting to a sneaky co-codamol last night to stop me coughing! We had a pretty uneventful day - it was very mild and grey, with rain switching on an off in an arbitrary fashion, the kind of day when the outside air felt warmer than that inside the house. I did a bit of falling asleep at odd times, a bit of thinking about going to Edinburgh next week, and a biggish bit of looking at Facebook, where lots of people were sending us greetings and reminding us of how many nice people we know.

The highlight of the day was going out to dinner in the restaurant which we'd taken over for our Ruby Wedding, a little fine-dining restaurant five minutes' walk from our house. For years it was the go-to place for all celebrations that required food - staffroom coffee-drinkers' Christmas night out, entertaining visiting friends, enjoying the kind of food I really like on a quiet night out, all presided over by Rosie, an early former pupil of Himself.  Then for a while the lease was taken by an outsider, and though all seemed as it had been the atmosphere was never quite the same. Covid closed its doors, along with everyone else's, and they didn't reopen. 

And then the word appeared on Facebook: Chatters was back, back on a pop-up basis to fit with an expanding outside catering business. And it was with that in mind that I contacted the number given to see if it was going to be open this evening, and was delighted to find we were in luck. 

The collage is my attempt to convey the atmosphere, from the fizz in the lounge before going to our table, with the local artists' work displayed and for sale, through to the dining room - full, and cleverly timed to accommodate everyone smoothly - with the fabulous saddle of venison and the iconic chocolate biscuit cake with raspberry coulis; then back to the squashy sofa to drink espresso and eat tablet. The young women serving were examples of the kind of friendly efficiency that keeps a busy restaurant happy, and we left in the kind of cloud of jolliness that only a special evening can create.

I fear this post may be a trifle incoherent, but put that all down to the guid red wine ... and perhaps to the ever-advancing years of the writer!