To Buxton!

In 2015, my friend The Imaginator set off for a 12 month working holiday in the land down under. Her life took a couple of detours including getting engaged to an Australian and creating two tiny Australians (The Smalls). This year she finally found her way back onto British soil, just in time for lockdown. 

Now that COVID has died down a little we figured it was safe to meetup. So yesterday I packed The Youngling and The Artivist into the car and set off for Buxtonland.

It took a long time to get there. Buxton is further from Wigan than where I used to live. When we arrived The Imaginator presented me with this wombat. 

Her to do list when she left included that she should 'bring us all a wombat', so I was most pleased this hadn't been forgotten (although I believe she is yet to 'solve cricket', which was also on the list).

We had lunch in the pub where The Imaginator works, and the meat there is supplied by the butcher's shop where The Australian works. 

The Youngling sat in a pub highchair and happily munched on some of the tiny mushroom and spinach sandwiches we'd brought for him, only dropping a couple of pieces on the floor and refusing a minority (which he ate later). The vegan pie I had was good but a bit on the small side. The Artivist regretted not ordering a second helping of chips. The Australian was unimpressed with his meat being undercooked. The Smalls weren't interested in their food.

After lunch we went to the park. They have 2 kids' play areas there - we visited both. The Imaginator explained they've found it best to go to the enclosed play area first. That way The Smalls tire themselves out a little and are less liable to running off when they later go to the bigger play area.

The Small Small did like to run off. She escaped from the enclosed play area 3 or 4 times but each time was recaptured by the Australian. The Big Small was happier to stay in one area for a while before moving on. The Australian taught me that the key to finding your kids in the park is remembering what they're wearing.

The Youngling didn't do any running off because he's not learned to run yet. Hopefully when he does, he will still have a preference for brightly coloured t-shirts. He did have a nice time staying with the grown ups and practising his walking, getting to know The Imaginator. And he had a go on a lie-down swing with The Small Small.

After the park we went to The Imaginator's house for a cuppa. I'd almost forgotten how steep her road is. She lives at the top of the hill, next to a field of sheep. The Artivist made comment about how it must feel to leave your house in the morning and see 90 sheep starting at you.

We saw The Imaginator's parents - Manray and The Inquisitor. Manray introduced himself to The Youngling and helped him practice his walking while The Inquisitor asked The Artivist lots of questions about where he's from and whether he dropped out of uni, and what roads we'd used to travel over from Wigan. 

Then it was time to go home. It's a long drive from Buxton to Wigan and we were going to have our dinner late, which would've probably meant getting The Youngling to bed late, but The Artivist was ON IT and ordered us a takeaway from the car, which arrived at our house about 5 minutes after we did. 

It was a good day, and we arranged it just in time - as of today gatherings of more than 6 people are illegal in the UK because COVID. Hopefully it won't be too long before we can all meet up again, but maybe I'll just have to arrange seeing The Imaginator without any kids stealing our attention or something.