104. TGA/TGE (1/6)

My blog is not my secret garden anymore. My husband somehow guessed I am writing a blog. Every time he sees me on my laptop he says, in a cheery voice.

'Blogging?'

Or:

'Still blogging, are you?'

And again:

'How's the blog going?'

And he even gives me suggestions:

'You could put that into your blog, you know!' Just when he has managed to roast a sausage and heat up a can of beans AT THE SAME TIME.

I doubted he was just being encouraging and congratulatory about it, I mean it is not really a male attribute, at least not in our family. Males in our family just state what is necessary, not more (more about that in an other unpublished post).

'You need something to write about.' He told me very mysteriously on the first morning of his first day of his first week off work in ages.

'What do you mean?' I asked, a little upset at him thinking I needed his help to write my life stories.

I suddenly remembered lockdown days and how he spent days and days in an empty office floor and ended up online looking up ideas for a new hobby.  What happened was that he, just like me but in reverse, discovered blogs. 

'Right! That's it! We're going!' He announced that evening. The kids got excited and started shouting all at the same time. 

'Yeah!'

'Coooool!'

'Where are we going? Are we driving?' 

'Waaa yayyyy!'

Until their father said.

'Hold on you kids! Just mum and I are going this time.'

After all the happy excitement, we got the moaning and the whingeing. Then they were back to excitement at the idea to be home alone. Meanwhile I was racking my brain trying to remember what this could be about. I was going to have to read my own blog just to refresh my  memory! Meanwhile he was on his computer till late making mysterious bookings. I decided I'd find out soon enough. The following morning I got a coffee brought up at 7:00 AM sharp and was told to get up and pack an overnight bag - with passport. I drunk my coffee and obediently packed a bag, then briefly stressed up madly as I thought I might have shoved my passport up in the attic of the outhouse along with all the cases and bags. The kids, I could hear, were given a long list of complicated instructions.

Then suddenly I was in the car and we were driving off.