So, you’ve lived with somebody for over fourteen years. You are pretty much always together (except for the weekly cricket matches and the very occasional visit to the Czech Republic) and suddenly he says, ‘I think that travelling to my course on Thursday morning will be very unpleasant, what with all the frost and fog. I think I will stay up there the night before. I will ring my little girl (don’t panic, he means daughter) and ask if she has a bed for me.’
All is confirmed and you are left with an evening on your own. What are you first thoughts?
Guilty pleasures! I could watch that film that he’s not that keen on! I could read all night without disturbing him with the light! How about a drink with a friend? Or even a reiki marathon!
And then I realise that I have already asked Mike to de-feather (I don’t care if he plucks them or just cuts out the breast and leg) the four pheasants that Fred the Dog and I brought back from the last shoot so that I can make a load of stew for us to take to work on the farm.
The birds have been hanging next to our kitchen door (outside of course) since last Saturday and have only just thawed out after the three nights of frost. Fred fully deserved them by working large parts of the woodland with the most varied crew of dogs ever allowed to a pheasant shoot. We even had a pug named Bentley, complete with a red jacket.
So back to my ‘me time’. I have prepared the meat, chopped some veg and herbs, thrown everything into the amazing invention that is a slow cooker, brought in some more wood for the wood burner, washed up after the carnage in the kitchen and now I am here, talking to you lot, while Czech music is blaring out of the speakers.
But not to worry, I will read later. And trust me, Lady Chatterley’s Lover is a book as guilty as they get…