Home and away

The snow arrived eventually. But I don't have any cute pictures of little man playing in it, because he has been with his dad since Monday. While I have been moving house, the amount of time he has spent away from me and with his father has crept up. My variable shift patterns have contributed to this. Now, STBE husband's relatives are visiting from afar and so once more little man's presence is required. And now that I am only 15 minutes' drive away it seems so much stranger to not have him with me despite him being so close.

Of course, this gives me the opportunity to Get Things Done. At my pace, ie tearing around like a lunatic, banging into things and getting irate (who'd have thought the door handles in my new house would be such a problem; each one I pass either whacks me in the arm or hooks itself onto my clothing). I have presents to wrap, boxes to shift into the loft (where no doubt I will stand and gaze out of the Velux window at my river view), panna cotta to make courtesy of the Hairy Bikers, piles of washing to get through, brandy snaps to munch, snowy motorways to navigate so I can get to work later.

And now that moving house is over, STBE husband and I are going to have to sit down and talk about when 'STBE' is going to become simply 'ex'. Unless of course he decides to admit what a twat he's been, apologise profusely for his behaviour and book a very, very long course of relationship counselling.... Divorce it is then.