Today I travelled to Bishopsworth Aerodrome (a.k.a. Bristol International Airport) with my third born child and waved her farewell as she tootled off, via Amsterdam, back to her friends and university and pannenkoeken paradise in far distant Maastricht. I hate saying goodbye to people but I especially hate saying goodbye to my lovely kids as they wander far from home. The fact that Child III lives somewhere so especially lovely and a place that I would love to be myself makes the goodbyes even harder.
Also, the fact that I have now been to Bishopsworth Aerodrome three times this year and not gone any further makes my blood boil boil . . . but I’ll be back at Bishopsworth Aerodrome on Thursday to do a bit of travelling myself . . . ha ha haaaaaah!
So that was it for today really. Bit boring really. Can’t see the point of being alive really. Feeling a bit glum because the house is suddenly empty and very quiet, I’m still a bit knackered and stiff from yesterday’s hike and I can’t find the garage key to get my bike (or anything) out. There are some precious items in there such as the lawnmower, the Christmas decorations, the tumble drier and a huge pile of shit that needs sorting out and distributing amongst charity shops and the tip . . . perhaps it’s not that bad that I’ve lost the key after all.