TFI friday

I do love an early night. There’s something comforting as the nights get darker and chillier earlier about wrapping up under a nice duvet at a time when a lot of people are still contemplating dinner. I’m a big believer in a feather duvet and pillows and thank my lucky stars I’m not allergic to those and having to make do with synthetic-fibre replacements. I have a brother who suffers from this type of allergy and I feel a little bit sad for him that he doesn’t get to experience the way your head sinks into a feather pillow, and the duvet just flops around you.

Anyway, last night I was tucked up in bed by 8.30, watching TV on the laptop and wondering if it was a bit too sad to turn off the light at that time. I’d been dreaming about a night in, and had almost run out the door from work on the stroke of 5, and was home with a chicken and mushroom pie in the oven by 6. The pie along with some potatoes and frozen broccoli – it’s not far from payday, and I’m living on whatever’s in the cupboards/fridge/freezer – was consumed fairly quickly, the washing up left to one side for tonight and I was ready for my bed.

The night before had been different. I, along with another friend, had gone for dinner at a friend’s, she with the reputation as something of a gourmet chef. By the time we escaped the rush hour traffic and made it to her house it was pushing 8, so luckily the starter of prawns marinated in lemon juice, white wine and garlic only took a couple of minutes to cook, and were served up promptly on rocket with a sweet chilli and sour cream dressing. She first produced a rather lovely sauvignon blanc as accompaniment, but with three, that barely lasted the first course, and by the time dinner proper was served, we’d moved on to a chardonnay. Not a massive fan of chardonnay, but this one was very nice, although could have been aided by how quickly the first bottle had disappeared. Main course was chicken, flattened and stuffed with plums and wensleydale, an odd combination which worked surprisingly well, before the meal was finished off with mini lemon cheesecakes and a cheeseboard. And more wine. A shock move saw the production, and quick removal after a chorus of “Yuck!”, of a white from Transylvania, before the party as a whole moved on to red, firstly a shiraz from Australia. Another one followed although I couldn’t say what it was, profound conversation flowed as it only can after copious amounts of wine, and I woke up yesterday craving a never-ending supply of water and my bed.

And so now it’s Friday and, noting how refreshed I felt this morning after the early night, I promised myself another early escape and night in. Unfortunately a “just the one” invitation has come my way, so who knows where this could end up.