If we were having coffee it would be a little different this week, a neighbour had invited us around for coffee and scones. As relative newbies to the street it was a very kind and unexpected gesture. We didn’t know the person other than to say hello to and we didn’t know who else to expect as invitees.
Approaching the door with a little apprehension as I do with most social occasions, armed with a rose plant as a small token of appreciation and my youngest child…..if ever you need an ice breaker make sure you have a child dressed in football gear with a match to attend.
Offering to take our shoes off which was waved away as silliness, we were quickly ushered into the kitchen, where the smell of fresh baking and coffee permeated. The back door was open and my youngest was promptly guided out to the back garden with a glass of pink lemonade, a large scone and raspberry jam.
Staying put I made polite conversation, unfortunately the bell went again in quick succession and we were unable to converse properly before the other neighbours arrived……and our previous house owners. Yikes, of course why wouldn’t they be part of this posy. Almost immediately struck with fear around the possible awkwardness of the situation, should I bolt and sit in the garden with my son….or stay and face the fear that was in my head.
You see….we now know the house that seems to keep giving just as they knew the quirks that they had left behind. The strange smell that lingers after a huge downpour and the leaky drains to mention a few. This was part of the deal when we took on the house and we fully accepted the challenges. The bigger fear was how to explain the alterations we were making with no hiding the fact that a skip has been outside the house for the last four weeks and how this might be received. Within a few minutes I was extending a friendly invitation to come and take a look once we had finished, the finer details of taking a corner out in order to allow the sun in too complex to imagine.
There was a choice of 3 scones, a cheese, a fruit and something I would describe as a flat fruit scone come rascal. Two choices of jam, a raspberry and a blueberry. Served with Rhodas clotted cream, a type of cream that I just can’t turn away with a taste that takes me instantly back to cream teas in Cornwall.
We left early, too many brief conversations and not enough quality ones. It was a shame you see, unfortunately my son really had football to attend to and you can only fit so many things into a day!