Mr D decided to climb up into our loft and get his fishing gear out, the fishing gear he apparently saved up hard for when he was a wee lad. Since the rod and box of tricks surfaced again he’s been waiting for the ‘right’ tide.
Tonight's the night, and off he’s gone with his friends to sit on the cold windy beach in 20 layers of clothing to catch a fish. Or two.
Before he left, he bought us a fish and chip supper from the local shop, maybe he’s testing out the competition catch of the day? If I was any kind of wife I would take along the box of pork pies I noticed he left on the kitchen top. Obviously I’m not.
Me? Curled up on the sofa waiting for Liberty’s of London to come on, enjoying a glass of wine whilst trying to ignore the calls from the Christmas stash of chocolates upstairs.
How’s your Wednesday going?