The Wild Loaf Bakery, Liverpool

A couple of Saturdays ago, a friend invited me to the second anniversary afternoon celebrations of a bar, that I had never heard of, in town.  I’m not really a pub sort of person.  I don’t like crowds. I don’t like loud places. I don’t like dark places. I don’t like places I have never been to before.  I spend a lot of time planning when I go out.  There are lots of “what ifs?” questions that need answering, and scenarios that I have to prepare for.  It takes a lot of energy and efforts, so everything I do has to be worth it.  I had already decided when I woke up that morning that my motto for the day was going to be “Just f*ucking do it”. I had spend all summer researching stained glass windows workshops. But didn’t even get as far as emailing queries. I just wasted hours on anxiety. Months of asking myself questions that didn’t matter.  Wondering which course I should choose; thinking of different scenarios for how I would get to the various locations on offer, and which dates would be safest, and how many people would be in a class, and “what if something happens?”. I try to predict the unpredictable.  Exhausting. But that morning I booked onto a 2 day glass art workshop. I emailed the artist. Paid the invoice. Booked the trains. It was that simple.

So when my friend asked me if I was going to go to the pub that afternoon, at first, I was reluctant. But then she said the two magic words. There would be screen printing there, and apparently the doughnuts on their Instagram looks pretty amazing. Along with an inner voice screaming “just f*cking do it”, art and cake will get me anywhere, anytime.

On the way there I ran thought the usual scenarios in my mind.  Wondering where I should get off the bus (a stop sooner than usual), and what if I couldn’t find the place (its down a small side passage way), and how crowded was it going to be (turned out most people stay at home when its pouring with rain).  All strange things to worry about when we have the World Wide Web, and various means of contacts constantly at our finger tips…but what if…?  I had the perfect excuse to change my mind and head back home.  I got soaked.  Any excuse would have done though. After deliberating which doughnut (mixed berry jam, or honeycomb and custard) to get from the Wild Loaf bakery, next door to the bar, we chat, and ate, the afternoon away.  I would say that honeycomb doughnut is pretty good.  Now, it takes all my will power to not get off the bus a stop early.

 

Paolo & Donato’s Italian Deli, Liverpool

Some days I wake up phyically and mentally tired.  Exhausted.  Acing. Heart pounding.  Gutted that I am awake.  Somehow, I am still alive, and now I have a responsibility to live.  I have to find the energy, again, to get to the end of the day, again.  There was a phase when I would have just stayed in bed.  Now, I am able to convince myself to make myself vaguely presentable and go out.  I promise myself that it will be worth the effort; and I know the dread wont last forever. I know an hour of boogie bounce will help me breath. And I have a mission to complete.  I have to keep working my way thought the Liverpool Echo’s list of 9 best places to have ice cream in Liverpool.

By the time I have finish off my chocolate, and orange & biscuit ice cream from P&D Italian Deli, the imaginary hands that choke my throat starts to lose their grip.  More importantly, I am already thinking about which flavours I am going to try next time. The day doesn’t look like it will be so bad afterall.

My First Blog, Maddie’s Gelato and Waffle Bar

First, let get something straight.  I am not a foodie.  Foodies like to cook.  I usually end up charcoaling my food, and living off the ingredients I have in my freezer.  Foodies enjoy trying new restaurants and cafes. Whereas (till very recently) I dreaded going out.  I had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.   I had been a normal happy thirty year old, and then I wasn’t.  In recent years there have been times when I have been too depressed to leave my bed. I have been claustrophobic.  I have been agoraphobic.  I have cried over the stupidest things. I stopped eating. I spent most of my time on my own, or working out.   I did what I had to do to stay alive and survive.

Things have been changing very recently.  Yes, my group of friends have got smaller and smaller, but my relationships have got stonger. I dont get that dreaded feeling because I have to step outside my front door.   It has taken me over three years, but I want to live again!  I want to learn the cello! And attend a stainglass workshop!  I have my freedom back.

Last year, one of my friends suggested we work our way thought the nine best local places, according to the Liverpool Echo, to have icecream.  It has taken me a while to build up the courage, but a week ago we finally visited Maddie’s Gelato and Waffle Bar.  I had the Maddison Fruit Garden Waffle, and it was nice (told you I am not a foodie). This is the inspiration behind me starting this blog.  Now seems like the perfect time to start.  On Friday I am flying to Australia.  Over a three week period, I am hanging out with friends and family.  But I have 6 days on my own.  It had been years since I have travelled alone.  And I am scared that I will be too scared to leave the hotel. So here is my plan.  I am going to go to different icecream parlours; and pancakes houses; and try different puddings. I know a pudding cant make you happy; it cant give you a hug; and it cant make you feel free.  But an icecream sundae can make you excited; a pudding from your childhood can comfort you;  and the search for a taste sensesation will set me free.

Im a different person today than I was 4 years ago.  But one thing has remained the same.  I still love my puddings.