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h-styles-babes · 7 years

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Harry Styles Blurb/Request #5

So here’s the previously requested part II of the “Me and the boys with handle it.” blurb I did a few weeks ago. Took me a little longer than the other ones I’ve done, but I’ve been back in school and trying to keep up with No Control, so it got pushed aside a bit. But, I got a chance to sit and write recently, so this came out! I’ve got a few other requests that I’ve got to do, so look out for those in the coming weeks, too.

Hope you guys enjoy! xx

*Image is not mine. It was honestly just my inspiration for this part xx*

Part II

“Bug, leave Mumma alone, please. She’s not feeling the best.”

Their youngest—well, soon to be middle—child pouted a bit at being told he can’t cuddle with his mother. And it broke Y/N’s heart a little, seeing him so put out by not being able to sit with her and her not being able to love on him properly, but she’s just so damn uncomfortable. She’d been having contractions all day, but it was in such irregular intervals that she knew she wasn’t in active labor yet. Which was annoying as hell, because she really just wanted this baby out of her already. She’s already two days past her due date, and she’s ready to just get it over with.

“But—” the little boy started, but Y/N cut him off, not unkindly.

“Just sit beside me, yeah?” she suggested, reaching out for his little hand. “We’ll watch some telly for a bit before Gran comes ‘round.”

Harry’s mother was coming into London from Cheshire to help out with the boys. Harry had called her that morning to say that Y/N had been having contractions and they were pretty sure it was nearly time for their baby to make her way into the world. Even if Y/N’s water hadn’t broken by the end of the week, the doctor wanted to induce labor. There was no need to keep Y/N in pain and exhausted if the baby was okay to be born. Both Harry and Y/N were hoping that it wouldn’t come to that, but they were prepared for it if it did.

The boy conceded and crawled up onto the couch beside his mother, tucking himself into her side. Y/N wrapped an arm around him as Harry picked up the remote to change the channel to some cartoons. It was a Saturday, so the boys weren’t in school. Harry had been postponing going into the studio everyday, wanting to make sure he was at home when Y/N needed to be taken to the hospital. He’d been still getting work in, just in the studio they had in their home, and his producer had been in and out a couple times in the last two weeks. His next album was close to finishing, and they were working whenever they could to get all the final touches on it.

Fifteen minutes into their show, there was an alert that there was someone at the front gate. A glance out the window showed Harry that it was his mother, who’d already typed in the code and was driving through the gate. He met her outside, pulling her into a hug and accepting her kisses.

“How’s she doing?” Anne asked as Harry grabbed her bags from the boot.

“She’s uncomfortable,” he sighed. “Just wants the process to speed up. These random contractions are irritatin’ her.”

“Understandable. Yeh gave me a bit of trouble when I was in labour, too,” she chuckled, closing up the car. “Wanted to rip my hair out, it was so frustratin’.”

“So nothing’s changed?” Harry asked, taking the mick before his mother could. “Not at all,” she agreed with a smirk.

The second the door to their home opened, both Harry’s sons were trampling toward their gran, wide smiles and flailing limbs. Anne dipped down in a crouch to hug both her babies, smothering them with kisses and greetings. It had only been a couple weeks since they’d last seen each other, but that was much too long in any of their books. Anne was seriously considering a move out to London to be closer to her family, because she hated being three hours away from her kids and her grandkids.

When she was finally able to make it past her excited grandchildren, she dropped a kiss to Y/N’s head, who was still lounged on the couch. She’d just made her way through a mild contraction when Harry had left to go help Anne inside, so she felt a bit tired.

“Any progress, poppet?” Anne asked.

“No,” Y/N huffed. “Gettin’ pretty knackered, though.”

“Go take a nap,” Harry suggested. “Mum and I’ll take care of the boys.”

Anne agreed wholeheartedly, already having planned to make lunch for her family and maybe play with them outside. It was a bit chilly, since they were well into fall now, but the sun was shining for once, so it made the bite of the cool air a little less shocking. She figured she could take the boys to the park so Harry and Y/N could have some quiet for a bit before they were busy taking care of a newborn,

So, Y/N went up to her and Harry’s room and fell asleep rather quickly. Harry and Anne made soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. Anne listened as the boys chattered excitedly about how school had been going. They had a week holiday the next week, so Harry was even more grateful for his mum’s help. He didn’t know if they’d be able to deal with a newborn and their two boys by themselves when the boys had a week holiday. Y/N’s mum had offered to come by and help whenever she was needed, too, since she lived much closer than Anne did.

Some time later, Y/N padded back down the stairs, looking and feeling a lot better than she had earlier in the afternoon. She smiled when she saw her babies and her mother-in-law shrugging on their coats. Her youngest boy bounded over to her, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he told her that Gran was taking them to the park for awhile and that they’d had soup and grilled cheese for lunch. Y/N nodded along enthusiastically, accepting a hug and kiss when they were on their way out. Her older son hugged her, as well, and gently rubbed her tummy in goodbye. He wasn’t as forward with his emotions as his younger brother, but he was just as excited about getting a new sibling. The thought of having a sister was also something he was quite happy about, since he loved his brother, but he thought another girl in the house would be pretty cool. Y/N had to agree.

When the door finally closed behind them, Harry sighed and wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist, pulling her as close as possible with their child between them. Harry was excited to finally meet his little girl, so he was hoping she’d decide it was time to come out sooner rather than later. Plus, he didn’t like seeing Y/N so distressed and frustrated. He knew she would probably soon start resorting to those methods that were thought to help speed along labour. The light walk around their neighborhood had definitely induced her labour when she was pregnant with their eldest, and Harry was pretty sure the spicy food they’d had for dinner the night before she went into labour with their younger boy in the early hours of the morning had done it. That was years ago, though, so they couldn’t quite be sure.

“Take a bath with me?” Harry asked, nuzzling his nose at her temple before pressing a lingering kiss to the skin there.

Y/N hummed, a sweet smile pulling at her lips. “Sounds lovely.”

Harry prepared their bath as Y/N stripped out of the knit dress and leggings she’d been wearing for the day. Harry helped her into the warm water before stripping himself and sliding in behind her, fitting her back to his chest. Since he’d taken to growing his hair out again, Harry tied his hair up with an elastic, much the same way his wife had so as not to get their hair wet. Y/N loved that he was growing it out again.

She’d loved his perfect curls when they were younger, and she’d been inordinately upset when he’d had to cut it for his first film. She’d pouted for a few days when he’d first done it, but she’d accepted that he had to do it for his role. But when he kept bloody cutting it for nearly three years afterward, she was pissed. She missed his curls goddammit! And he was refusing to let it get long enough for them to even think of forming. When he’d finally gone a couple months without getting it cut, she’d felt her hope rising in her chest, but she didn’t voice it for fear of him telling her he was just being lazy and would end up cutting it again. Then it was finally long enough that those little ringlets formed, she knew they were back in business. She hadn’t had to say anything. Harry could see the content look on her face when he started letting it grow out. He promised himself that he wouldn’t cut it so short again unless his career demanded it.

Harry stroked his hands up and down her sides and then smoothed over her stomach. He could physically feel the starts of a contraction under his hands, and Y/N tensed at the feeling. It wasn’t strong by any means, but it wasn’t comfortable, nearly like a menstrual cramp, so she breathed through it. Harry continued to rub over her stomach and dropped kisses along her shoulders, offering support how he could.

“Getting any closer, yeh reckon?” he asked once it had passed. It only lasted for about half a minute, so he knew they weren’t anywhere near close.

She shook her head and huffed. “No. They’re not regular. It’s been like this since last night.”

“Wanna start trying stuff? Can make the soup Mum made spicy,” he offered. She shrugged. “Might as well. I’m hungry anyway.”

Before the water even ran cold, they were out and down in the kitchen. Harry doctored the soup up with some sauce he used when cooking Mexican food and watched as Y/N ate. She didn’t even seemed phased by the spice, so she added some more on her own. Once there was a pleasant burn to her tongue, she was satisfied.

She finished the bowl and Harry and her took to the couch to watch a film. When an hour passed and there was no change in Y/N’s contractions, they started thinking of something else to try. It was too cold for a walk, so that was taken out of question rather quickly. Their other children had been born during warmer months, being April and July babies. They needed some other way to maybe move things along. Harry knew of one way he’d heard of working quite often, but he wasn’t sure if Y/N would be up for it. He didn’t know quite how uncomfortable she was or if she was willing to try anything yet.

He had just banished the idea from his head, when Y/N spoke up. “We could have sex.”

Harry’s eyebrows climbed on his head. “Really?” He was a bit skeptical as to whether she actually wanted it or if she was just using it as a means to an end. Their sex life hadn’t stopped at all during the pregnancy—they had had a hell of a time on their short holiday last month on BVI where they didn’t have to worry about little ears or eyes—but it had definitely slowed in recent weeks. The last time they’d been intimate, it hadn’t even been sex. Harry had come home from the studio while the boys were napping and was pretty worked up. Y/N had sat on the edge of their bed and given him head while Harry stood before her, hands wrapped in her hair.

Y/N nodded, and Harry could see a spark of actual lust in her eyes. “Been awhile since I’ve had you inside me,” she purred. She turned on the couch to straddle him. She nuzzled her nose into his shoulder and bushed her lips against his neck. His arms wrapped around her waist and his hands settled on her bum, squeezing gently. “I miss feeling you stretch me. It’ll be the last time for awhile, too.”

“We don’t have to if you’re tired and uncomfortable, love,” Harry urged, not wanting her to do this just because she wanted to speed her labour along. They could always just go to their hospital and ask if she could be induced.

“Not tired,” she objected before sucking lightly at the hinge of his jaw, causing his hands to clench. He was already getting worked up, and Y/N could feel him stiffening between her legs. “Want you, H. Please, baby.”

“What about mum and the boys?” Harry asked. He was nearing on the point of no return, and he really didn’t want to be interrupted by his mother or his other children. He’d probably cry if that happened.

Just as he asked the question, Harry’s phone dinged from it’s spot on the arm of the sofa. Glancing over at it, Harry unlocked it and read the text message that made both him and Y/N sigh in relief.

Boys wanted to see a movie and Gran gave in. Be home in a few hours xx

“There’s your answer, Styles,” Y/N smiled.

“Good,” Harry grunted. “Now, get your cute bum upstairs. I want yeh naked on the bed by the time I get up there.” He smacked lightly at said bum, earning a little squeak out of her.

She hummed. “Is that how we’re playin’ today?”

Harry could feel the damp patch through her leggings and his boxers. The roughness was turning her on, and they both couldn’t help but remember back to their younger selves who had been in to spanking and denial and some pretty kinky stuff. That had been before they were parents, though, and things had definitely changed since little ones were thrown into the mix. Harry would have to make a mental note to revisit this later when he could be a little more rough with her. He missed how submissive she got when Harry was in a mood.

“I don’t know. Is that how you’d like to play, kitten?” Harry pulled her hips to his, grabbing her against his hard member.

She mewled and sunk her teeth into his shoulder, making his hips jerk. “Think I’d like that very much.”

“Then get upstairs,” he demanded. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

Sex seemed to be the magical answer to all her problems, because not two hours later, Y/N’s water broke.

She had just gone to the restroom after helping Anne prepare dinner. She’d stood and started washing her hands when she felt s trickling down her thighs, soaking through the material of her leggings. She sighed in frustration, thinking she’d just weed herself from the baby pretty much using her bladder as a pillow, but when she looked down, there was a whole puddle of liquid on the floor. She realized rather quickly that it was her water breaking, and a smile burst on her face.

She opened the bathroom door to Harry in their room, talking on the phone. By the look on his face, she could tell that it was business related, but her news really couldn’t wait.

“My water broke,” she announced, Harry’s eyes automatically flying to hers. The grin on his face matched her own, and he quickly got rid of whoever was on the phone, hanging up hastily.

“How’re yeh feeling?” he asked, moving to grab her a new pair of leggings and knickers from the drawers in the corner of their room.

“Good. Haven’t had a contraction yet, but we should probably get to the hospital soon,” she advised. She’d done this twice before, so the nerves and jitters she’d felt the first time she was in labour were nowhere to be found the third time around. She felt like a seasoned veteran, and she was honestly just excited to meet their little girl.

“I’ll call them and let ‘em know we’re on our way,” Harry said, helping Y/N balance as she changed her bottoms. “Guess the sex worked, yeah?” he grinned cheekily.

“Should’ve done that sooner,” Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes. “If there’s ever a next time, please remind me that sex should always be the first answer.”

“If?” Harry asked, sort of playfully outraged. “What do you mean ‘if’? Want at least two more.”

She reared back. “Two more? Harry, I’m thirty-one. Know your swimmers last until you die, but I’ve only got so many good eggs left.”

“You’ve got until thirty-five, love,” he told her, pressing a kiss to her head. “Got at least two more babies in yeh.”

She rolled her eyes, even though she knew he was partially joking. “We’ll see how I feel after I birth this one. I might negotiate for one more.”

“Too bad twins don’t run in either of our families,” Harry teased.

She lightly shoved at his chest, making him stumble back with a snicker. “Get my bag and tell your mum we’ve got to get going. I’m gonna call my mum.”

“Gem too, while you’re at it?” Harry asked.

“Course,” Y/N agreed.

Y/N had made both the calls by the time Harry was back in their room. She’d gotten her shoed from the closet, but she needed help putting them on, which he was more than happy to help with. As she sat, watching him patiently tying the laces, the first contraction hit her, much stronger than any of the other had been and lasting for quite awhile longer.

She breathed through it as Harry rubbed at her thighs, offering her a reassuring touch. When it passed, she grabbed his hands and kissed his palms. She twisted his hand to look at his watch and note down the time. She’d have to start keeping track of the time between them now. Hopefully they’d pick up soon.

“Gonna meet our little girl soon,” Harry smiled. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Y/N’s stomach. “Can’t wait, princess. Daddy and Mummy can’t wait to see you.”

Y/N hummed and scratched her nails through his hair, petting it back from his head. He looked up at her through his long lashes, his brilliant green eyes making her catch her breath. She’d never get used to how absolutely stunning his eyes were. A decade together and nearing on seven years of marriage and she still couldn’t handle how beautiful he was in every way. The only indication that Harry had even gotten older since they first met when they were both eighteen was the crinkles around his eyes and the facial hair that grew in thicker and more evenly across his jaw. Other than that, there was no sign that he hadn’t stopped aging at about twenty years old.

“I love you,” she blurted, not able to contain the emotion swelling in her chest, watching him talk so eagerly to their daughter.

“I love you too, angel,” he whispered, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “Fall more in love with you everyday.”

Y/N had her second contraction as they made their way to the hospital, and they both noted the twelve minutes between it and the last one. Anne had stayed home with the boys, promising to bring them when she got closer to having the baby. Harry promised to keep her updated with a kiss to her cheek and a hug from each of the boys. Gemma had told Y/N that she’d be in the hospital as soon as Harry told her things were speeding along. Y/N’s mum was probably already waiting for them in the maternity ward, knowing how excited she always got over her grandchildren.

Harry called Jeff while they were in the car, letting him know he’d be unreachable for the next few hours, possibly days, since his wife had gone into active labour. Jeff didn’t have a problem with it and promised to tell the people working on his album. He congratulated Harry and said he’d be by the hospital when he got a chance, excited for the new addition to the Styles family. One great thing about Jeff being both Harry’s manager and a really good friend was the support he got for both aspects of his life. He could count on Jeff for just about anything.

The hospital staff was quick to get Y/N and Harry check in and in a room when they arrived. An initial check by a midwife let both parents know that Y/N was already two centimeters dilated, where she’d only been a half centimeter at her last appointment, which was just a few days before. The midwife had delivered both of their sons, so she didn’t even bother giving them the spiel on when to contact nurses or other medical staff. Y/N simply settled into the bed, Harry sitting by her side, and flicking through the channels on the TV, looking for something decent to watch on a Saturday evening.

Y/N had another three contractions before the span between them seemed to shorten, down to eight minutes apart by the time the midwife came in to have another look. Nurses worked to get Y/N hooked up to IVs and heart monitors for both her and the baby. It was announced that she’d progressed to four centimeters in the short time, and Y/N could only smile calmly at the news. She was more than ready to get her little girl out into the world.

Y/N’s mum arrived close to eight in the evening, just an hour or so after Harry and Y/N arrived. They sat and talked about mundane topics, keeping Y/N’s mind off the contractions that were coming quicker and stronger. Harry called his mum and sister to let them know how everything was progressing. He got a call from James Corden and Ben Winston, too, expressing their excitement on the imminent arrival of the new baby. He was sure Jeff had told them about it, since they were all still in pretty close contact. Harry’d just seen James and Ben the last time he’d been in LA just a few weeks before, and he was glad for the support from his friends.

Just an hour later, they were told that Y/N was at seven and could have an epidural at any point. Her contractions were now wearing her out and she was more than ready to just get it all over with. Harry let his mum and sister know that it was best if they came to the hospital then, even though it was the boys’ bedtime. Harry and Y/N figured an exception could be made for the birth of their new baby sister.

By the time Harry’s family showed up, the doctors were telling Y/N she’d be able to start pushing with the next round of contractions. The boys were only able to visit with their parents briefly before being ushered out with everyone except Harry and Y/N. Used to this whole thing by now, Harry tied up both his and his wife’s hair and stood by her side as the hospital staff prepared for the baby’s delivery.

“As soon as the next contraction hits, start pushing, alright, dear?” their midwife urged. “Think yeh can do this in three pushes. You’re a champ by now.”

Both Harry and Y/N chuckled, knowing she was probably right.

Harry held his little girl tucked safely in his arms while Y/N napped beside him. As predicted, it hadn’t taken much to get their little girl in the world, screaming and pink and with a head of dark hair that was already curling at the edges. Harry had to laugh at how strong his genes were, seeing as all three of his children now had his messy curls and dark pigment. The baby had his pouty lips, too, but he was pretty sure she was going to have her mum’s nose and eyes. He loved that his boys had his green eyes, but he kind of liked the thought of his only daughter—as of right now—having her mum’s eyes.

“Love you so much, princess,” he murmured, stroking over the gentle slope of her nose with the tip of his finger. “Most beautiful girl in the whole world. Never let anyone tell yeh any differently. Gonna be just as strong as your mumma. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, right next to your gran and Auntie Gem. Got a lot of strong women to look up to, little love. Think you’re gonna be more than okay.”

Y/N stirred beside him, waking to see Harry cuddling with their daughter, speaking quietly with her, a goofy smile on his face. He was so in love, and it was a good look on him.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered, seeing his wife was awake.

She blinked blearily at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “For what?”

His vision blurred slightly with tears and he could hardly get his gratitude out over the lump in his throat. “For my babies. For loving me. For supporting me. For everything. Literally, for everything.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles smut #dad!harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles request

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briarofthebush · 7 years

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I’m in my favourite place for a casual coffee and snack in my local area. I live in a pretty commercial corner of the town, which boasts about 5 Starbucks and one cosy café, one old-school diner, several other franchised café/eateries such as ‘Chipotle’, ‘Panda Express’, ‘Red Robin’ and ‘Subway’ just to name a few. When I can, I love an excuse to take me out of this highly commercial area so I can enjoy a good coffee, and a good vibe in an independent business. My local café is often too dark, the food is pretty ordinary, and the noise unworkable. There is no nice vibe, in fact it feels hostile at times.

Here, where I am this morning, up the road a bit, away from the shopping district, there is the smell of coffee and good, smoky bacon. There are always a lot of relaxed people around, many in my own demographic, as well as younger and older. Lots of dog owners (though they keep dogs outside). People play with their kids (or ignore them) on a big rug at the back. Many people have become familiar faces to me. There is light. The coffee is excellent. The food is usually delicious. They make coconut bread and a maple and bacon muffin which is awesome. I meet here to ‘write’ every Friday morning, though sometimes it’s purely a social gathering. Oh, and they know my name now, when I order stuff!

This place sits up on Roosevelt Rd, along with a few pubs and another couple of restaurants, amongst other small businesses in Mapleleaf. I love this part of town. It is a very steep 15 minute walk up through the suburb from my place, or it’s a short bus ride.

I can get a really good fresh croissant here, or a breakfast sandwich on an English muffin or a Bagel. There are lots of cakes and quiches to choose from. There is a range of great looking sandwiches that they will make fresh, including the BBQ pork, the Cuban, Turkey, cream cheese and cranberry, Tuna salad, Mediterranean roasted veges, (though I’ve yet to try one). I often get a croissant with ham and cheddar, which is chockers with good ham, unlike in Australia, where the meat portion on a sandwich is distinctly light-on. (I really think there is no excuse for skimping on the meat in a sandwich, because they are incredibly expensive, for that tiny sliver of turkey or beef or pork they give you at home.) Let the Americans take credit for knowing how to put together a good sandwich.

Although don’t get me started on the bread. AS we speak, I am stocking up on par-baked and bakery reads in my freezer, because there is no such thing as a corner bakery for miles or a milk bar where can grab a loaf on my way home from places, and I live a good walk from the supermarket. I have tried several of the packaged brands of bread, the white, the whole-wheat, the grainy, and they all stick to the roof of our mouths. They have so much sugar in them. They feel wrong, they taste wrong. Only the Italian style or Sour dough breads are less sugary. The good bakery breads are excellent, but as I said, I have to get to a supermarket that is out of my way when I’m in transit, so I make special ‘bread shopping’ trips to stock up. If I had a bigger kitchen, I would make my own.

I love to buy a sandwich at QFC, an upmarket grocery where I can also get a hot sandwich from the deli counter on my way out, and savour it’s deliciousness on the way home as a reward for walking up to the supermarket along the noisy, smelly road. They give them names like ‘The Rainier’ or ‘The Snohomish’, and pack them full of really nice cheese, pestos, relishes, mustards and Boars Head Cured meats. I always feel like a bit of criminal for ordering one, but it is so worth it to get one. And always get it cut in half so it can be stretched to 2 meals, or shared. One day Johnny and I greedily thought we could eat more than a ½ roll each, and ordered a grilled cheese sandwich as well to share on our way home. We were really hungry and it was a very cold and grey day. We walked past the old homeless guy on his wheelie-walker on our way in, and the minute we saw him again on our way out we knew we had to give the grilled cheese to him. I will one day be greedy enough to order one for myself.

These are but a few memorable foody experiences I have had here in Seattle, in USA generally. I wish I could say I’ve had many more, but I really did know what I was in for, moving here. I knew it could be a challenge, to be able to eat what I was used to here. I knew the food would, at the very least, look different, and possibly taste differently. I have been really fortunate to fall in with foody types, who have travelled, and have shaken loose their need to have every little thing BBQed, covered in buffalo sauce and bleu cheese and other indiscriminate flavourings, or in a burger… people who ‘get’ food, and care where it comes from, and that it is different the world over. We’ve been taken to a place that does oysters and raw food, which is possibly the best place in town, we’ve had amazingly cooked Central American food at a gaudy old garage painted up to be a festive cantina- served Mojitos with plantain chips and moles to die for. We’ve had beautifully cooked Bistec et frites in a French restaurant, crab dips, lobster rolls, Aussie style pies, authentic Mexican food, Indian food, Korean banquet, Yum Cha and Southern style food truck delights. We had Caribbean style jerk cooked food in beautiful sandwiches, in another converted garage. (This up-cycling of mechanic workshops into restaurants is to be commended). We were fed a delicious crab and lobster filled ravioli- lasagne at Christmas. We have had fresh filled dumplings cooked for us, pork ribs and roasted chickens and lamb chops cooked for us by our friends in their homes. Beautiful, fresh and nutritious food.

We’ve have tried Southern fried chicken in a few places, and I can’t fault it anywhere. It is always delicious. All I know is, I should never really have it.

All the same, as much as Seattle is fast becoming a foody destination, (according to word on the ‘street’), the idea where a café is a more casual place where there is restaurant style great food available has not quite caught on. Not in the suburbs, at least. People still expect and receive the over-sized sandwiches, huge plates of diced potato and bacon with everything, hot or BBQ sauce with everything, and there seems to be an expectation for people’s plates to be loaded up with no space left. Loaded up to the roof in some cases. Lunch is often a 3 courses on an order affair, with soup, salad, chips to go with your sandwich, panini, burger or bagel. You feel weird just ordering a sandwich. But I quite like the ½ sandwich +soup options in some places. (You don’t have to be a pig). You are often expected to order at the counter and bus your own dishes. As nice as the staff are at the counter, they don’t often clean up after you. Everyone knows where to put their dirty dishes. Salads are often very much a chopped up bowl of everything in a bowl. I have seen maybe two carefully arranged salads on a plate in 20 months.

Breakfast, on the other hand, is a FULL plate of stuff, and often a pancake to go with it. The American breakfast is seemingly a tradition that will never budge, especially since people in the west will now eat biscuits and gravy, fried chicken and waffles, and even pulled meat on their eggs Bene, (which often is smothered in béchamel and not hollandaise). The Avocado Smash phenomenon and the Shakshuka are happening, but only in those very trendy cafes where people line up out the door, such as you see on Portlandia. The best option if you don’t want to walk out feeling like you’ve done something really dirty and need to go and take a long shower and hit the gym all afternoon, is to have a breakfast bagel or croissant. Which is what I do here quite often. They don’t actually do big plates of food here, just sandwiches, quiches and cakes. Beautiful cakes, wholesome and generously full of fruit or nuts. Their coconut bread is to die for.

Today I am going to do something different for me, and order pie (fruit, probably berry), only I didn’t see any pies in the display case at the counter. But I do know that, unlike at home where you feel very strange and humiliated to ask for things you cannot see, I know I can ask here and they will probably want to give me along and well explained story about the display case being broken or the pie oven being broken or the berry supplier being on strike. And then we’ll probably get talking about my accent and about someone’s sister who went to Adelaide or somewhere. It will be pleasant and not humiliating. And then I’ll order something else.

When I leave here I will probably hit QFC and grab some good bread and maybe even a sandwich for Johnny and I to share for lunch. If we go to the pub later it will mean a fairly naughty food option. Happy Hour Food is often quite calorie heavy. Cheese balls, Fried curds with a delicious raspberry sauce, Fries, pulled pork potato skins, pizettes, nachos, burgers, sliders, buffalo wings are some of the things you might find on the menu. One of our 2 locals has much more fresh fare, (woodfired pizzas and salads for example) and the other has much more traditionally prepared, aka fried food. Unfortunately the one with the cheap Mug Club beer is the one with all the greasy options. My favourite item on their menu is a raw tuna Poke ‘nachos’ on fried wonton skins, with mashed avocado, jalapeno slices, spring onion and a teriyaki dressing. It is really delicious, but doesn’t seem to line my stomach for the ensuing pints of beer well enough, unfortunately. It has taken months of experimentation to figure out the best ‘drink friendly’ foods to begin a night on, and to work out that a starter snack of something small but stodgy then another later on after a couple of drinks, then maybe a THIRD night cap (small) supper is possibly the best way for me to cope with 3-4 (or more) pints. It can get pretty washing machine-like in my tum at times.

(I’d better poke in a disclaimer here: while I am not on a strict calorie controlled diet, I am actively trying to NOT put on MORE weight before I return home to the land of salad days). A heavy meal when drinking is just stupid. Dessert is ridiculous. No-one needs that much food! Well I don’t. I don’t move enough. And then, if brunch is on for the next day, well that is just really asking for more lard to deposit itself on my rear…

I’ve actually decided against the pie. The shared monster sandwich Johnny and I will have will be quite enough food for the rest of the day.

Until ‘happy hour’.

Take Me Home, Country Loaf I’m in my favourite place for a casual coffee and snack in my local area. I live in a pretty commercial corner of the town, which boasts about 5 Starbucks and one cosy café, one old-school diner, several other franchised café/eateries such as ‘Chipotle’, ‘Panda Express’, ‘Red Robin’ and ‘Subway’ just to name a few.

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