The mister and I unapologetically snuck off for two whole nights away. 48 hours of us.
No kids. No getting up and down to let the dogs out. Let them back in. Let them straight back out. No diving to work. No deliveries. No supermarket trips. No tramping through a muddy field trying to convince the hairy ones they’re walked enough.
Forty. Eight. Magnificent. Hours. Glorious time away for the nervous breakdown I deserve. Can you even imagine getting into bed and easily falling asleep and then waking up feeling rested and then having a good day and then doing it again?
Not a smooth start
Things didn’t start as smoothly as I’d hoped, no surprise there, and we ran late. I had a few errands before we left, and himself a night shift to sleep off.
The bairns, who had been assured we’d be gone before their return from school, were most unimpressed to find us still there frantically throwing clothes into an Ikea bag. We like to keep our luggage as classy as its contents.
Trying not to take offence their disappointment, we promptly departed with proclamations of love, laced with not so veiled threats of severe consequences if any shenanigans occurred in our absence.
I mean, what could go wrong with biggest kid was home to ‘babysit’? Middle kid was most put out, indignantly announcing not only had we got them a babysitter, but we’d also chosen one SHE’D have to babysit.
She made a fair point. We were out the door and off before she could protest.
Confident with the aid of mobile phones and willing nearby friends (in case of emergency) we could relax and be on our way.
Just a quick stop at the caff to drop some stuff off first. And a quick stop at the shop to get himself something to eat as he was only just up.
And a quick stop at the hospital to collect my chemo, due to start during our trip. And a quick stop to drop off some recycling. And a quick stop for fuel plus additional time to dry our eyes after paying for it. NOW we could be on our way.
A concert for one, by me
Our favourite hotel is just over an hour away. The mister happily drove, meaning I could treat him to a concert for one by me!
Imagine his delight at my discovering the lyrics to all my favourite songs on my music app. Can there be any greater joy than being driven round the Scottish Highlands by the man you love whilst confidently belting out your favourite numbers? Not for me certainly.
Arriving just in time for our dinner reservation, he only had to quickly edit my column submission before he was allowed to eat.
Now we can begin our interruption-free 48 hours, although now nearer 36 hours. A delicious meal. Our favourite room.
No dogs needing out to wake us. No ‘where’s my school bag’ pleas to disturb our morning. No remembering it’s bin day and leaping out of bed. Just my steadfast bladder telling me it’s 6.45am and time to rise.
Nothing more strenuous than a wee drive followed by card games, lazily played over dinner and drinks.
We can’t help but overhear neighbouring diners passionately discussing the best routes over nearby Munros. Should we feel guilty for not being as energetic or adventurous?
As I wash down the first dose of my 49th consecutive cycle of chemo with a cheeky vodka and lemonade (not medically advised btw) I decide not.
Happy Mother’s Day to ME
If needing to rest and relax helps it to keep working, that’s where you’ll find me. Happy Mother’s Day to ME, love me!
So, my proposal/pitch for my new feature will be as follows: A monthly review column where we visit different ‘nearish’ establishments. To sleep, nap and do nothing.
No recommendations for local activities. No spa treatments. Not a hint at a gym or night life. Just truthful chat about comfortable beds, decent showers, nice toiletries, and tea-making facilities.
Is there a bin near enough the bed for our KitKat wrappers? Kid’s facilities? No thanks.
Staff kind enough not to judge unbrushed hair and jammies at breakfast knowing full well you’re only heading back to bed straight? We can call it ‘The REVIEW from Here’.
Thank you Mhor84, as always, 5*.
