I've been silent for weeks as a)i've been making the most of family time and b) any spare time has been spent harassing local councillors about local issues re: ANOTHER FUCKING TESCO. I will get onto the Tesco (I have to sick the word up) but for now, this is a quick post to say that rest assured, many, many posts will be coming your way very shortly. Why? Because for the forseeable my evenings will not be spent in sofa tv watching with spouse (me: "Is this some sodding camera and cop thing again?" him: "Yes, it's good, look the fucker is..." Me: "i'm going to bed with my big fiction book of murder"), or concerned conversation with spouse (him: "Do you think every boy is like that?" me: "yes"), but alone. I will be alone because husband is off barbecuing, baking, frying, whatever you do with ribs and half a pig. He's at Bjorn Again, he's at food festivals, he's at fairs, he's at concerts, music festivals and a 4th of July celebration. He's pushing the power of the rib to people and thoroughly enjoying preaching the pork to meat eaters. He's tossing them, basting them, doing all sorts of things at all sorts of festivals for weeks on end while I do not attend. I do not attend because 3 and 4 years olds get bored pretty quick at country shows and do not find barbecues that interesting for, like, 4 days. So we stay home, and eat salad. If he ever makes it big and does Glasto, then we'll go. Me, i've got weeks worth of Bogart films stacked up, a stash of pear cider and some good books. My intention is to spend the lone evenings reading, sewing, watching bad sci-fi and writing increasngly psycho letters to the council/MP, and blogging, oh yes.I will need patience in buckets, not for when he's gone, but for when he gets back. For it is then that the kids start reacting. Some time end July. He has a week off. Then flat out till September. He still has a day job.
I let him go. I encourage it, provide balm. Because he's going to be knackered, the family will recover some time in October. He's going to be grumpy, the kids are going to wonder about the bearded man who wants to read them stories, and they will be SICK of me.But, he wants to be head of his own thing. He wants to have a job he likes, and a timetable that will, eventually, be family friendly (so in 4 years time he might be able to take the kids to school while I do the rest), and that I applaud. But, I don't even like ribs. And i'm going to be very, very bored of reading a Suzuki GSX manual to son as a bedtime story.
Good job I have a big fucking Tesco opening near me soon. And a planning permission for 1,000 homes. That should give me direction for my barbecue widow anger. Oh yes.
Note to people: Sane(r) Sheridan will be back soon.