The house is very quiet without him and I've still got two weekends to get through without him. Contact opportunities are few and far between but yesterday he managed to charge his phone until full so we had two, TWO conversations. He had to stay outside to get a strong enough signal but also had to keep walking about to avoid the legendary kilt-wearing highland midges that had identified him as the protein source of choice. I'm touched. He could have stayed in the pub or gone straight to bed but instead he chose to ring me and put himself at the mercy of the local wildlife.
  

Apparently he is aching all over, having done 85 miles yesterday. I could never manage that sort of mileage in one day, especially if I had to get back in the saddle for more the following day and I'd probably not manage to phone home while walking about a field.

He's my hero.  And I want to kiss him all over. And he's too far away.

Yesterday evening, Landlord finally crossed the border and is now in the land of cricket once more. This fact alone should make his heart more glad but unfortunately his body is not doing so well. He's cycling 70 odd miles a day with tendonitis in his knee. One of the party is a qualified physio and has been dosing Landlord up on super strength painkillers. Call me old-fashioned but I really don't think it's a good idea to cause more damage to your body and just medicate the pain. He should be resting it not causing perhaps irreversible damage.  This might put his South America plans into perspective though. I may be slow and less able to put in many miles when we cycle together but at least this slow coach stops him knackering out his body (save that for later, teehee)

oh and in other news (how overused is that expression in a blog?!) I've just discovered that all my cycling, has done some serious damage to my jeans, not to mention my reputation. The friction of cycling has meant I have invented the world's first crotchless jeans.  We have a fairly relaxed dress code in this office but having your arse hanging out is a mite too far.  "oh just buy a new pair" you might say, but have you forgotten what torture it is to buy jeans? Once I have the courage to attempt this quest, I'll be trying on 70+ pairs of jeans, none of which I'll be happy with and the purchase will happen only once my spirit is broken, my soul is destroyed or my patience has run out.  Next weekend, I bite the bullet. The agony of the experience will take my mind of Landlord being away.

Nothing is more tragic than waking up on Christmas morning and realising you are not a 5 year old child.
.

I can't remember who said that but it rings true with me. Until now.

I've got this funny feeling. It's butterflies mixed with an intense anticipation and joy. It's like knowing you're about to pick up your lottery win. It's like being told that in a moment the universe's secrets will be revealed, it's like Christmas eve at age 5. There's an almost palpable magic. And it's all because he's home tomorrow evening and I get to wrap my arms around him and plant soft little kisses on the curve of his neck. I'm practically giddy with excitement. Just to be able to smell his breath.

Of course he won't have missed me nearly as much. He's been off doing exciting things, cycling all day and spending the close of each day filling up his tanks on beer and having a laugh with the boys, his cycling companions. Each day will have been new and different and loaded with novelty and surprise, while I've been at home, only too aware of his acute absence in these familiar surroundings.

But my time alone has not been monotonous. I've been studying like crazy and am catching up on my lapsed studies. Last chapter was about how baby's learn to understand and speak their native language (it's fascinating). I couldn't get the mower to work so had to resort to cutting the grass with shears (oh my aching back), I made all manner of edible goodies that are now in the freezer or fridge, I had my sister round for some in-depth man-talk and spent last night at the Foragers celebrating c-side's birthday. (HAPPY BIRTHDAY C-SIDE!) and today I'm going to clean the oven and change the bedlinen for my true love's return.

I'll also be wearing my best pants.