My youngest daughter left for Le Mans this morning, her job starts on Monday, and my OH went with her to help the move into her new flat.  Middle daughter is occupied all weekend with publicising the events she’s arranging for les journées du patrimoine at Chateau du Cros and I’m alone until tomorrow evening when I pick up my OH from the station in Bordeaux.  Apart from three cats and two dogs of course…

That’s nearly 36 hours.  I love my family, I love having them around and I’m going to miss the youngest daughter hugely, we do masses of things together, enjoy the same sorts of films and present a united front when the OH demands to know why we’re “watching that rubbish” (Mad Men, Doctor Who…).  She also bullies me gently to keep on with writing and refuses to allow me to sink into gloom.  But that’s still 36 hours where things stay where I put them, when I don’t have to make meals for any one else (dogs and cats excepted of course), don’t have to consider what anyone else likes eating and can live on sandwiches if I feel like it, and can have lunch, if I want to, sometime in the afternoon.

I’ll be more than happy to see the OH tomorrow evening, but in the meantime I’ve got nearly 36 hours of only thinking of me (and three cats and two dogs).

Oh, what bliss!

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