I've sent Mr B packing...
Oh, not like THAT! He may have his annoying ways (don't we all?) but now that he has become a Domestic God In The Kitchen (see yesterday's
blog) I think I may have to keep him. I say "may" because in my view it is always a good idea (and much more fun, let's face it) to keep a man guessing. Mr B says, with his usual quite startling self-confidence, that I need him more then ever
now, to provide regular copy for the Daily Blog....
Next week we are away on holiday. Unfortunately, we will not be canoodling in the Canaries, sunning ourselves in Spain, gorging ourselves
in Greece, or fraternising with our neighbours in France. We will be on the Isle of Wight. On a Bowls Tour.
The thing about going on a Bowls Tour is the sheer amount of clothes and
equipment which the bowler in the family needs to take. There's the club blazer, of course, plus white trousers, shirt and tie - clean for every match which means three times each outfit. And don't get me started on what gets packed
in the bowls carry-case. No, don't, please, I really mean it - I have absolutely no idea what lurks inside. Apart from the bowls, presumably.
What I do know is that, until Mr B has packed
all he wants to take in our suitcase, I will not know how much room will be left for my clothes. "Not a lot" is an expression which comes to mind. However I do have a cunning plan, to deal with the worst case scenario. I will layer.
Come Monday morning, I will don three pairs of trousers, four tee-shirts, two pullovers and several pairs of socks. I will look like a female version of the Michelin Man and will take up most of the two seats we have reserved for us on the coach.
Mr B will just have to squash up a bit. Like my clothes in our suitcase...