You Can't Beat A Pub Lunch

Yesterday.  Nice quiet Sunday.  Well, apart from the children rampaging over me in the morning.  We dropped them off at a friend's place, and then went to the local markets.  Which was nice, and I did my best efforts of being the pack horse or sherpa or whatever Mistress and Sir required of me.  In the market environment.  As well as the fruit and veges and spicy tomato relish, Mistress had one more decision to make - flowers or candles.  Now, with the candles, I probably would have gotten some candlewax later on so it wasn't all selfless if that had been the go, but Mistress went with the flowers instead.

We then had a pub lunch, which the budget somewhat got extended for.  It was a bit more expensive than the Maccas that Sir was suggesting we go to, but more relaxed at the same time.  Beer, food, Rugby World Cup, and reasonable conversation - well, apart from Sir not being able to get away from thinking about work.  Mistress asked for an application form to work at this local pub, maybe a few shifts in the near future.  Yes, the finances are starting to look that perilous.

Nope, and that's the last I will talk money - this entry at least.

Oh, and that reminds me, Sir was reading the blog yesterday, for the first time in a while, and he went from one entry to a while back.  He made the assumption that he is always at work, always tired, or always in a bad mood according to my viewpoint.  Not my words, those, they are his own.  There is plenty of positive stuff that Sir does, otherwise I wouldn't have stuck around as long as I have, and the comfort levels wouldn't be where they are, but yes, those three aspects are part of what is making him tick at the moment, no point denying it.  But it's not the full picture.

Did the groceries, very domesticated wandering around the aisles.  May be sad to admit, but it was nice.  Sir darted back to the car with a splitting headache, and, as we passed the ice cream aisle, I said to Mistress to get a second flavour all for herself, as the first flavour she had gotten was something us boys liked.  She said, no, I won't have the ice cream, give me hugs instead, they won't make me fat.  Funny.

Got home, domesticity again, and Mistress arranged the flowers in a vase.  Which was nice.  Everyone was a bit tetchy though, Sir had a headache, Mistress flung herself into cleaning the fridge, and I piked out and hung up some washing. 

Last night, I finally got around to starting job applications again.  I had just hit a roadblock with the previous employer application, and Mistress helped me write the awesomest cover letter I have ever written.  For my old job though, which, even though Mistress assisted and was showing an interest and everything, is still a kinda sorta fail.  It is out of the way now though, and I can see the new applications as a reboot as it were.

All three of us were dead on our feet almost as we headed to bed.

Mistress was smiling at me earlier, because I had left the blog entry of the day so late, and I shrugged my shoulders and said not much happened yesterday anyways did it.  Now I am trying to rack my brain to see if I missed anything - was there a Mistress/Sir moment that flew over my head?  Not sure.  Oh, I was a bit oh woe is me about SHOE POLISHING of all things yesterday, but that wouldn't even be a footnote in my usual struggles, let alone a moment or a full on meltdown.

One thing I realised this morning, and it is too good a thing to leave it until tomorrow's entry, is that she is my Safe Place.  And I mean that with no sarcasm or melodrama or anything like that.  I hope that, in return, I am her rock that she can always depend upon, but that is for her to decide or to say, not me.  Everyone, all together now - awwwwww.