Pay it back...

So my hunter gatherer returned home yesterday.  Looking like RoboCop coming home after a long night of crime fighting on the streets of Detroit, I attempted to hug him once he was off the bike. 'It's been bloody freezing today', he said.  

I can't tell you how relieved I was to hear that beneath the armoured jacket, he was wearing several more layers.  I had started thinking that perhaps the European beer and food had taken its toll when I couldn't get my hug to reach further than his shoulder blades.

He'd had a wonderful time, and regaled me with tales of derring-do.  Of steep hills and wet leaves, of mud and suspect pasta.  I did try and feign interest, but I was in the middle of watching the Strictly Halloween Special when he tipped up, and we all know that this is something not to be distracted from, don't we, ladies.  Anyway, he and the other MAMWSKB (Middle Aged Men Who Should Know Better) are already planning their next jolly which might involve Morocco and sand dunes.  

It all sounded very exciting (well, I'm assuming it did - Debbie McGee was on) but I did tell him that if he abandons me that long again, then I am heading off somewhere hot for a week with Miss R. This isn't a 'tit-for-tat' jolly, it's just that for the eight nights he was away, I probably only had around forty hours' sleep.  Consequently, he has come back with a sparkle in his eye after his trip, whereas I look like I need kick starting.  

Not to worry, his post-jolly-guilt should ensure that I get brought copious mugs of tea today.  I should also imagine that a pub lunch might be on the cards and that he will do all the dog walking today.  Talking of the dog walking, I've done so much over the last nine days that I'm sure I'm a couple of inches shorter. These two inches have simply relocated around my waist unfortunately.  Some serious work is going to be needed to shift them, and the half a stone which has crept up on me like a leopard in felt slippers over the next few weeks.  

I always try and get a bit ahead of the game before the food and drink orgy also known as Christmas gets here.  It's always easier to lose half a stone of the stone you put on when you've already lost half a stone.  Does that make any sense whatsoever?

But it's back to normal this week.  

Well as normal as it ever can be in this house...