Post 341: Another restful day in a great bed.
Tomorrow we leave here with mixed feelings, but better knowledge about the profiling bed and what it can do for me.
Another bright morning, but I’m not going to venture out. The lanes are scary, and I’ve now started to arrange for a deep polish and chip removal by a guy who is a professional. I don’t need more for him to polish out so we’ll stay in. I think we feel the same.
I feel nothing but sadness about my Darling’s new car that has been put to the sword here in Dorset. If it wasn’t for the scratches and stone chip, I’d be happier — but it was me driving both times, and I’m to blame.
I hope the scratch repair man does a good job.
We didn’t find many high-class hostelries that could offer me anything but a burger and chips, as the food on the veggie menu was sparse.
Oh well. It makes me think I should eat meat and fish when this happens. I question why I shouldn’t eat badger and pigeon in the country, if that’s what they eat, but I’ve not got the courage to eat the stuff.
I wish we had organised a few places to go to so we could engage in the local way of life, but with only a ten-day window of opportunity to do any study, I think we failed ourselves with what this break could bring.
The sneaky way the location is only given after the booking was only great if you wanted to be living six miles from the nearest shop down tiny lanes.
I know the drill — the safety of the host is first and last — but a line in the description about there being only fields for six miles would be kinder.
Perhaps it’s because we have never done self-catering before that I’m whining about it. We’ve only done city centre breaks with the boys when they were younger, or going to stay with family.
Perhaps that’s it — we weren’t prepared.
Am I happy going home? Yes and no.
Could I stay a few days more? Yeah, easily.
Am I missing Mr Vicious? I’m not answering that because it might incriminate me.
I’ve truly rested here in the country, but I don’t know if my Darling has — as much as me anyway.
I think the worries at the beginning were about the bed, and that disappeared the first morning. The cottage is so clean and tidy you couldn’t fault it. I’m very comfortable here and even became more comfortable in the recliner chair, which I have to say might also be on the shopping list for my comfort at home.
It’s surprising how being forced — or having the option of — has given me a new perspective on home comfort.
Fabulous.
If I came for a rest and a getaway, this is great and because the WiFi doesn’t work for us (on our iPhones), I have possibly had less time on the screen, but I’ve become more relaxed with my 8GB of data.
The data I normally use is about 1GB a month, so the 8 is overkill. However, being off-grid has made me rely on my own data, and I’ve used only a gig and a half this week. So, multiplying that out, it would seem that a month of this use of data is still well within my limit. So perhaps I should relax a bit more about my data running out and just use it.
I’m so old-fashioned about certain things. I’m a wally to many people with my special ways — especially the kids — but it takes all sorts, and I’m not going to change anyway.
Should I be thinking about our next holiday? Yes.
I know the end of my Darling’s annual leave for this year is the end of March, so April is the start of another year and another year for holidays.
Where will we go?
Can we even think about going by air right now? With this phoney oil war rumbling along, with the instigator looking like he needs a holiday more than me, I think flying away is a no-no. For now.
I would definitely like to go with disabled holidays again, but centred on a major road link, just for reasons of access.
These are things I will be chatting about with my Darling very soon.
I don’t want the oncologist to put a spanner in the works and make things complicated, but I can’t see that happening when there’s only a blood test to go on. Ha ha.
Anyway, I suppose we have to pack up a bit, so I’d better go for now.
Good night.
