I made it to big London Town this weekend for a lovely Saturday with my friends, Cathy, Nancy, and Naomi. We had all ditched the kids and had a lovely day browsing the faces at the National Portrait Gallery, eating lots and lots of yummy Dim Sum in China Town and then meandering the fabric shops of Berwick Market. Oh, my. How nice it was to be able to fiddle faddle around these shops with friends who chatted and browsed alongside without having to chase toddlers and cut things short. We spent hours looking at cambrics, cottons and silks. I got a yard of a lovely cotton print which will be my first garment when my Ebay target reaches sewing machine level. The conversation was all about what we'd make if... and when... and so we repaired to a boozer and had a sly pint (in the day!) and chatted more. All of a sudden, I wasn't just "mum" I was me again, and even though we did (of course) talk about our children, I was suddenly doing it with friends, and I realised how very much I missed being able to swap chat and ask for advice with friends so easily.I am lonely out here in the wilds. We all madly exchanged stories and did that thing that women do so well, where one raises an issue and all the others say , "well, for me it's" and sudenly the issue is in a context, and it's all so much better. I had to go all too soon, the Fens are just so darn inaccessible (buses from March are not exactly regular. Well, regular like the sunrise, maybe) and I hadn't caught up nearly enough, there was so much more to ask and say. On the train, as I waited to see the turbines that meant I was almost home, I was thinking "Arse! I meant to ask about that...and see about this..." but then, that is all the more reason to do it again. And the extra spring in my step the day after means I will.