The Pickled Puppy!
Oct. 11th, 2015 09:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lupestripePretty much last minute I decided to go back home to see my family. I hadn't seen my parents since August and my grandparents since April and as this was one of the few free weekends I'm likely to have before Christmas, I thought I would try and see them. I had pencilled this weekend in for a while but I did not know what state the attic would be in, but by Wednesday I realized that it would be fine so I made hasty arrangements.
I arrived on Saturday evening, when I had dinner with my father before going over to my grandparents. It's always nice seeing them although my grandmother in particular is looking rather frail. She also repeats the same questions and statements over and over, but she was delighted to see me, as was my grandfather who cracked open a bottle of wine as we chatted. The conversation was unusually dynamic and I was surprised to discover that my grandparents are rather liberal, more worried about neo-Nazis in Germany than Syrian immigrants, while also being reasonably pro-EU. I made the case as eloquently as I could and I think they will be voting to remain, meaning my entire family will be backing staying in the 28-nation bloc. Of course recently I have been thinking a lot about this and I really should stop letting this referendum consume me, but my job and freedom to move would be at threat so naturally this concerns me and I am a natural worrier. We largely talked about what I was doing - the attic, life in general - and "my friend" who I bought my house with cropped up, but I deflected all questions with ease. I haven't told them about being gay although I get the impression they would probably be okay with it, judging by their various comments on lesbianism which also cropped up during my stay. Still, they're 87 so there's no real point going there unless asked, so for the time being I'm happy to keep that part of my life under wraps.
After going to my grandparents, we swung by Middlesbrough to pick up my sister, who was travelling back from seeing friends in Newcastle and having to endure a myriad of pissed people, many of them Scots heading back from the rugby. It was great seeing her again too and once home, we chatted for a while, largely about her PhD which is frustrating her no end, before moving on to films and other such trivia. The same was the case when my mother came around on Sunday, largely to get advice on how to use PowerPoint but also to see my sister and I and have a tedious discussion on drains with my father. It was all wonderfully mundane as family life tends to be, while the usual debates and crises also were raised, particularly what the hell we are going to do for Christmas, a big bone of contention in our house (which is why I tend to avoid considering the whole festival and just stay at home).
After my mother left, my sister drove back to Sheffield, leaving my father and I to catch up for several hours. We did this while walking around Yarm - the town in which I grew up and a town I'm delighted to see now has not one but two craft beer bars - before we went to a nice country pub in Worsall (called The Ship) to which I went frequently as a kid and indeed as an adult when I visit now. Their menu has changed and has much less variety, while the place has been done up in a mish-mash style of bare brick village pub and white walled bistro but the fish and chips were humungous, not to mention tasty, and it was a great way to end my brief visit back home.
I arrived on Saturday evening, when I had dinner with my father before going over to my grandparents. It's always nice seeing them although my grandmother in particular is looking rather frail. She also repeats the same questions and statements over and over, but she was delighted to see me, as was my grandfather who cracked open a bottle of wine as we chatted. The conversation was unusually dynamic and I was surprised to discover that my grandparents are rather liberal, more worried about neo-Nazis in Germany than Syrian immigrants, while also being reasonably pro-EU. I made the case as eloquently as I could and I think they will be voting to remain, meaning my entire family will be backing staying in the 28-nation bloc. Of course recently I have been thinking a lot about this and I really should stop letting this referendum consume me, but my job and freedom to move would be at threat so naturally this concerns me and I am a natural worrier. We largely talked about what I was doing - the attic, life in general - and "my friend" who I bought my house with cropped up, but I deflected all questions with ease. I haven't told them about being gay although I get the impression they would probably be okay with it, judging by their various comments on lesbianism which also cropped up during my stay. Still, they're 87 so there's no real point going there unless asked, so for the time being I'm happy to keep that part of my life under wraps.
After going to my grandparents, we swung by Middlesbrough to pick up my sister, who was travelling back from seeing friends in Newcastle and having to endure a myriad of pissed people, many of them Scots heading back from the rugby. It was great seeing her again too and once home, we chatted for a while, largely about her PhD which is frustrating her no end, before moving on to films and other such trivia. The same was the case when my mother came around on Sunday, largely to get advice on how to use PowerPoint but also to see my sister and I and have a tedious discussion on drains with my father. It was all wonderfully mundane as family life tends to be, while the usual debates and crises also were raised, particularly what the hell we are going to do for Christmas, a big bone of contention in our house (which is why I tend to avoid considering the whole festival and just stay at home).
After my mother left, my sister drove back to Sheffield, leaving my father and I to catch up for several hours. We did this while walking around Yarm - the town in which I grew up and a town I'm delighted to see now has not one but two craft beer bars - before we went to a nice country pub in Worsall (called The Ship) to which I went frequently as a kid and indeed as an adult when I visit now. Their menu has changed and has much less variety, while the place has been done up in a mish-mash style of bare brick village pub and white walled bistro but the fish and chips were humungous, not to mention tasty, and it was a great way to end my brief visit back home.
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Date: 2015-10-23 08:40 pm (UTC)The inn was just a hotch-potch really. Worse was that the quality of the menu had dipped but what I did have was tasty and you can't argue with Yorkshire Brewery ale on tap.