Musings on bunting

This seems a somewhat random way to start a blog, I'm fairly certain the average person has not spent considerable time thinking about bunting. At least, if they have, they should be slightly worried about themselves; unless they run some sort of bunting company. Sadly in our household bunting has become something of a matter of pride and competition.

On moving into our new and rather glorious flat with its wonderous luxury of a garden, a great deal of debate was held between my best friend/housemate (currently to be referred to as "the Scot") and I about what type of bunting should go up in our garden to make it seem fun and festive. Also to detract that aside from being named a garden it is mainly a big space of concrete slabs, but to us it is heaven. Sadly this is the kind of thing two girls think about, more than "do we have a dishwasher", or debating whether our bedrooms are fairly sized, no, the correct bunting was what we spent our time researching. Looking back this seems ever so slightly irresponsible. However, it turns out that this is incredibly important as we have competition in the form of our upstairs neightbour who has some rather envious floral fabric bunting mocking us from her balcony. We were not to be outdone, instead we spent valuable hours, the Scot in particular, looking into the matter. I have to say we've come up trumps and have the perfect balance of floral whimsy without it becoming a cacophony of colour and clashing.

All in all I am quite proud and regularly take friends on tours of the garden and not only make them admire my wonderful (if slightly dead) herbs and lavender pots and floral tablecloth (all-weather) but to gaze in awe and respect of our seriously superior bunting. As I sat in the Trinity Arms in Brixton yesterday enjoying the sunshine the Scot and I looked around at their plain white bunting with a sense of superiority and pride at our own efforts in our garden. What are best friends for if not shared interests after all?

To many this may seem to be truly ridiculous but for those 5 minutes as we sat with a nice cold glass of cider we were proud.