Countdown...

I miss living in the Wobble Box...

Some of you will assume it's down to one or more of the following:

1. I was on holiday

2. There was no cooking

3. Also, no washing, ironing or 'putting away'.

4. Glorious lay-ins

5. Beaches, sunshine and crab sandwiches

Now while I miss all of those things, there are others which make me miss the Wobble Box more...

1. I always knew where the husband was (either next to me or with his head in the front storage box of the Wobble Box where the gas bottle and various tools are stored. Now we're home, he could be anywhere.

2. I could always see the dogs.  As you know, Reg is liable to get up to all sorts of stuff when left to his own devices, most of which involve his teeth and something of mine.

3. I'm back to 'putting away' again.  In the Wobble Box, the husband realised very early on that there was no scope for leaving things on the back of chairs, on the floor, or his favourite place, at the bottom of the stairs.  With the deepest of joys, I watched him as he put everything away himself, recognising the importance of being able to get from the bedroom to the door without needing a Sherpa guide, a pair of clamp-ons and some rope.

4. There's always something which needs doing, however hard I try to get in front of myself.

But not to worry, we have the next trip booked already. Only another thirty seven sleeps to go.

Not that I'm counting you understand...