With Charlie at College starting her reflexology course tonight (she qualified as a professional aromatherapist in December and now has letters after her name!) and the kids in bed, I had hoped for some quality blogging time. No such luck.
Instead, I have a constant stream of stomping fairy elephants coming downstairs telling me what their sister's doing wrong now. Gah!
Well, it's kicking up a gale outside, the dog's been through the rubbish and sicked up piles of rancid chicken, the idiot, and there's absolutely nothing of any value on the TV.
So my thoughts drift to how we can fill up the year with interesting things. There's a holiday to plan, birthdays spread liberally through the year (one falling on Easter Day, no less), there's our ninth anniversary in a couple of days time, there's a job to find, a new school to prepare for, bills to pay off, college courses to sign up for, social lives to rebuild...
It's quite daunting really. Much easier to sit here and read blogs and news sites, but we need to face up to our challenges.
For the holiday, there's three possibilities - a Gite, North Wales or East Yorkshire. Each has it's merits - neither of us has ever been abroad, so having a week or two in a little Gite in Normandy would be a total thrill. I grew up holidaying in North Wales and know the area pretty well. Haven't been back there in maybe 15 years, so I'm eager to reacquaint myself. Or there's the familiar option of East Yorkshire. We've been there twice times now and loved each time, but due to being stuck with public transport, we haven't been able to really explore. With any luck, I'll be driving this year, so we can get out and about and go to all the places we've been wanting to go.
Idon't know how to end this post. I was going to go into detail about all the decisions we've got to make this year, but I can't do it without getting into subjects I shy away from, like Charlie's past and my frustrations and what we've rowed about and specifics about our lives that I feel would be a step too far.
On the other hand, the blogs I read whose authors do share their most intimate feelings with the world tend to be showing mega hits, so I'm torn. Maybe it'd be cathartic to just bring everything into the wide open spaces of the net. Maybe it would spark such blistering rows that it'd be the end of our relationship. So many possibilities.
How much do you think you know about me? Could you answer quiz questions about me and my life? Would you like to hear more about the real reasons I don't like my father in law, or why my family's not close-knit, or my efforts to track down my Thai ancestors and whether or not my great grandfather was royalty? Do you want me to be more open about why we've spent the last six years in social isolation?
How do you percieve my style of blogging? Am I just an article and soapbox blogger? Do I share my life with you? What are my tastes in music or clothing? What hobbies do I have?
If you can't answer those questions and you've had a good look through my archives or (god forbid) you've been reading for a while, I must ask myself why you can't answer those questions. Do I want to remain the Man of Mystery?
Oh I don't bloody know. What do you want to know?
