Two Weeks and Five Days

Or (if you prefer), 19 sleeps to go.

grinning idiotically...

One good thing about a long-distance relationship is that small changes are more noticeable when you don't see each other face-to-face that often. Or so I hope. I haven't fitted in as much exercise as I would have liked, but partly that was down to the atrocious weather on Thursday. I didn't go swimming on Friday instead as I had to head off for that party in Sheffield.

Oh crikey...talk about envious. One of the barristers is impossibly slender but somehow curvy too, and she was wearing (bearing in mind the theme was Casino Royale, or Bond in general) an impossibly-tight gold shiny catsuit, thigh-high gold boots, a golden wig and with her hands and face painted gold. Apparently she had to take a friend with her whenever she went to powder her nose as the catsuit zipped up the back.

I spent some of the evening playing with Blofeld's pussy, which kept moulting over my leg. Naughty pussy.

It was nice to get away from the house, actually, and spend the night somewhere warm and with electricity. The storms took out the wooden poles on the embankment above the main house, which left the older part of the village without power for nearly 48 hours. There was a degree of damage to trees, with the most dramatic casualty here probably being a massive and ancient horse chestnut that toppled over onto the five acres here, taking with it a large chunk of next door's field, several saplings and what appears to be a fair-sized tree of some other variety. Not to mention other greenery. Pictures over at SOI's Photobag room.

I was not best chuffed to be sent home early on Thursday from a nice, warm, lighted office only to find the house in darkness. No power, no heat, no light, no way to cook dinner - and a bag full of chicken and salad from Tesco in Rotherham which went entirely to waste. I did however have the wit not to open the freezer compartment, so all the food in there remained frozen.

19 more sleeps...only 19. Feels like 119. I think the thing I hate most of all is when something goes wrong or one of us is hurting or ill. It's the physical absence that I most dislike, given that we manage to speak to or at least mail each other every day. Or nearly every day. And the missed days aren't down to anything in particular except very often just dumb luck.

I wonder if I would be half so tactile if we saw each other more often? Do I jam in as many kisses and cuddles and other things as I can to make up for the fact that most of the time I don't get to provide them? Or would I be just as bad if I did? I rather think the latter, going on past experience.