I'm going to write a travel book

I love travel books, any travel books, the more obscure the better but the one travel book I have never seen is the one written from the point of view of the person left at home waiting for news from the son/daughter/partner who is travelling.

It could be a whole new genre.

I would find it fascinating to learn what the wife of an intrepid explorer is thinking when she is left at home for months on end having to cope with going to work, getting the kids to school, getting the washing machine repair man in because the bloody machine has flooded the kitchen floor again while worrying whether soft lad has reached base camp without losing three toes to frostbite.

or what her Dad really feels about his little girl hitch hiking across Europe to Morocco. Just how cool is he with the fact that she could be getting a lift from an axe wielding psycho who keeps a picture of his dead mother on the dashboard.

and whether the parents of a son doing the Gap year traveling the world thing knew that they would slowly be turning grey with every new country he visited. I know for a fact that his Mum never imagined that she would feel permanently guilty when she was cooking dinner knowing that her little lad was eating noodles for the third day in a row.

So I've made my mind up I am going to write the antidote to travel books but not till James is home - because God forbid I should embarrass him with the ramblings of a mad mother who wants to warn every parent out there who has just been convinced by their fresh faced offspring that everyone goes travelling these days and I have planned against all eventualities, so Mother what can possibly go wrong!!!

Insomnia

Insomnia is infectious.

I can't remember the last time I slept for a full eight hours, in fact I can't remember the last time I had five hours unbroken sleep. I used to blame Dave's snoring - my god I was a saint to put up with it;-) - but since his heart attack he hasn't snored, although I do think that it was a bit of a dramatic way to solve the issue! but back to the insomnia- I have absolutely no problem getting to sleep, as soon as I close my eyes I'm away - my problem is staying asleep. Isn't it amazing how little worries become huge problems at four o'clock in the morning. When Dave first came home from hospital and I woke up to silence, I panicked, why wasn't he snoring, should I get a mirror to see if he is still breathing, then he turned over, I nearly cried with relief but then I lay there awake until the morning because I couldn't get used to the silence!

Sometimes I just lie there plotting new story lines for the soap; what is going to happen to Fliss and Martin now that she knows Martin was going to leave her for that little tart? Will Lizzie's stall become La Vista's answer to Ikea? What is Sonny up to in Barcelona and will Michael really follow him there to find out? Will Liam and Cassy get all the work done on the finca in time for their paying guest next spring? and Gloria, what about her, can she really be as boring and nice as she seems or does she have a dark secret? So you see there is so much whizzing around in my head it would probably be better if I just gave up on trying to sleep and fired up the computer instead, but that would be cheating, at night you should sleep, your body need that time to get it's act together for the next day.

So most nights I just take myself off to the loo, have a drink of water and try to get back to sleep. If I am very lucky I can convince myself that I am really tired and that my pillows are the most comfortable things ever invented. I then lie there imagining I am on a sandy beach with the warm sun beating down on me and hope that I will drift off....

I just wish somebody would tell the puppies that.....they have started waking up at five o'clock in the morning, I don't know why, they have warm cosy beds, plenty of water and don't seem to need to pee, the only thing I think is Insomnia is infectious. I'm stuffed!

Where is the time going to?

I don't know where the time is going, it's the 11 March already and I haven't done all things I've planned to do.

It's not as if I am having long lie-ins and lazy days, with two puppies in the house I am pretty well guaranteed an early start and busy days spent mopping up wee and making the house puppy proof but even so the days are just flying by.

I'm managing to get some writing done, not as much as I would like to but enough to ensure that I don't have too many panics about deadlines for the next few weeks. Todays episode of Spanish Steps is all about the aftermath of Martin's heart attack and I can promise you that I wrote this LONG before Dave had his but the coincidence is pretty scary non the less. I hope the kid's are wrong when they call me a witch