Holey moley, are we having a corker of a summer.
The weather is great, he has 3 months off 'gardening leave' before starting a new job, the children are being fantastic and are at the wonderful ages of 5 and 7. I'm feeling very lucky indeed, what a way to start being 40.
As soon as school was out we motored down the familiar M4 to Somerset, enjoyed beers in Mum's garden - a crumbling, fading wall gave view to a sea of nettles. The children adore the place, full of interesting junk, hidey holes in the garden, stuff to fiddle with and wander about as well as a dog whom they love - he is not so keen, preferring adult company and a quiet time.
On to a dear friends wedding when for the first time in weeks it rained, really rained. But just like the Bacardi advert, when the party gets going because there's nothing else for it, everyone was in the beautifully decorated marquee, mingling, mixing, remembering, hugging and appreciating the detail of the effort that weddings are. It was one of those evenings that when we ate at 6pm it was suddenly 1.30am, just like that. A fair amount of booze, silly dancing, giggling about the past, promising to be in touch more, poncing a malboro light for old times sake and flopping into a hotel room, which was hardly appreciated at all. Oh boy, what a hangover.
And on to Wales, for castles and dramatic skies, belly aches and liver aches with friends. I like living on the road, out of a bag. The children are completely adaptable, having done it from birth. Sleeping in strange beds, no routine, playing with other children only faintly recognised - we didn't see them for days, such was the absorbency of their intricate games.
And finally back to Sussex with a mountain of chores, work and lists to complete before flying to Spain tomorrow. To be 40. I can't bloody wait!