I giggle with glee at the mere mention of the up and coming films, so this was a great excuse to indulge in the things I like best. But my husband was the only one who got up early enough on Saturday to have a second breakfast (pancakes and compote made by yours truly). But I soon made up for it at the Tobacco Factory theatre with a pie, a pint, and a play, followed by cake and tea at a fellow hobbit abode. Bliss.
On the Sunday, I zoomed up to my parents to tackle an old, antique table I’d picked up from Wales the week before. This table will be my kitchen table, and will no doubt see me bent double over it, scribbling away on it for years to come, ruining the beautiful sanding work. It was soooo dark it looked more like a shadow of a table than an actual table. If a bit of sunlight were to shine on it, I fear it would have disappeared entirely.
So, in true Hobbit style, I ate first. Scrambled eggs to be exact – the first eggs I’ve ever had from my parent’s chickens: Brenda, Beaut and Molly. Thank you ladies. They were beautiful. Then… I sat in front of the log fire. (Yes, I can almost hear the hair on my feet spouting into a hobbit-style-bush at this point). But, eventually, I did pull myself away and hoist up my sleeves to sand the table of shadow!
I still need to apply many more hours of elbow grease… especially on those table legs (ugh!). If only I had Gandalf’s staff to magic the rest away. Luckily, I have the sanding wisdom of my dad to guide me, which is just as good, although he fails on the beard front. Soon, the extendable table of shadow shall be brought to into the light to support me in many epic meals and writing journeys. There is still hope.
Are you looking forward to the Hobbit? How important is your table to you?