What a difference a day makes
This morning, during those periods of time when working "on auto-pilot", I devoted a fair amount of time to deciding what to do with the three free weekends between now and the end of the year, weekends that I had reserved so that I could go away winter-walking for at least one of them. This coming weekend there'll be an OM meet up at Langdale, I would have been up for it but I've already declined the invitations to it because Chris is on call-out so I'm on kids-duty. But hey, I thought, I've got three more chances later in the year.
So, this evening, Chris tells me that she's rearranged her night out with friends... it was to have been this coming weekend, but it's been postponed until the weekend after, so that's one of my weekends gone. Never mind, there are still two left.
Being an organised sort of bloke, I cranked up the lappy and made the appropriate edits to the M$ Outlook calendar, at which point I was told to enter the details of Chris's work's Christmas Party... yep, it coincides with one of the two remaining weekends.
Well, the choice was gone, I was down to just one weekend, so it was take it or leave it time. I declared that I would be going away for that one remaining weekend, hopefully to find some snow up in the Lake District. That satisfied feeling took over, at last there was a definite window of opportunity, a fixed date to plan for. In my mind I was already mulling over the map of the Coniston Fells and sharpening the axe and crampons. Wetherlam, Swirl How and Dow Crag would be mine.
Chris looked at the calendar intently, studying the entries for her call-out commitments. From her briefcase she pulled out her ace of trumps, and played it... a revised call-out rota... wtf???
The one remaining weekend was consumed by a previously non-existent week of out-of-hours service for her employer, which means that I'm back in the childcare hot-seat.
Chris can't figure out why I'm ranting at anything that moves, nor why I'm kicking things that don't.
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THE SMALL(ish) PRINT... (updated 23/07/2016)
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Aye, sometimes it's not that easy to get away. Our boy turned 18 & we decided to start getting dogs instead, to make ABSOLUTELY sure we couldn't have every weekend off. Mind you, given that my beloved works every second Saturday that cuts down the options anyway...
😉
Something to make you laugh, that's what you need Stef. Can I do links from here? Oh hell, I'll try anyway. Note how it's got a beard in it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uIeRw8NZbfs
🙂
Welcome to my world. If it's not kids, it's dogs or bloody visitors. Occasionally it's pestilence or one of the other four riders.
This weekend has just been shot to pieces in time-honoured fashion.
Och well. There's always next year. 🙂