The reason I have been so quiet this week is that I've visiting SuperCathyFragile Mystic in her little cottage in the Wild West erm... Country. The Photographer was there, too.
I had the most wonderful time catching up, shopping, eating drinking and being very merry. On Tuesday we went for a wonderful walk and from the top of the hill overlooking her house, everything was calm and still. And quiet. At least to my ears!
Ah what fabulous memories. Especially as this morning I am sat on the bus with a revolting shouting child who I would quite like to propel out of the window. His father is talking on his mobile completely oblivious to the death stares the entire bus is giving his nose-picking, screeching spawn.
No wonder I didn't want to leave the calmness of SuperCathyFragileMystic's place.
But alas we had to, because Blackberry, the best dog in the world, who we had borrowed for the weekend, had to be delivered back to her rightful owners.
The Photographer and I did this, and enjoyed a marvellous supper with his Rents and then, when it came to dropping him off at the tube on arrival back in London I pointed out a bag in the footwell of my car that I had loaded earlier that day. It was an Asda bag for life and I assumed it was loaded with the wine that's currently cheaper to buy there than a bunch of grapes.
But The Photographer said it wasn't his...
And not only was it not his, but it wasn't mine either. It was SuperCathyFragileMystic's and it was full of wire and leads and TV cables and all the things you seem to have lots of spares of and do eventually need. And this was now 100 miles away from her little cottage in my car.
Naturally this seemed like a very valid excuse for driving all the way back to her place and I almost did. But have you seen the price of petrol recently?!
So this means that instead of waking up in the countryside, I am in London, in the rain, on a bus, in a traffic jam, with a child who is yelling at the top of his voice in a frequency I can actually hear, who is shows no sign of shutting up until his neglectful father gets off his phone and pays him some attention.
I think everyone will agree that perhaps I got out of bed on the wrong side this morning.
Indeed, perhaps I shouldn't have bothered getting out of it at all.