Decisions, decisions. Which resort? Which pub? Such are the vexing daily concerns of early retirement...
In a little less than a fortnight we have two rooms booked at The Glengower, two rooms with sea views, for the night of 1 June. This is because our tenth wedding anniversary is 31 May. So why TWO rooms, then? That's hardy a second honeymoon, sleeping apart!
Well, originally a couple we know were going to come with us, so the second room was for them. These are very dear friends of ours who actually met at our wedding and have been virtually inseperable ever since, to the extent that they also got married three years later. So 31 May is our wedding anniversary (and also my birthday) and the anniversary of their meeting so we have often spent it together doing double-date weekends.
However, there has been a major development in their lives. The wife retired from the police force in December of last year, and now she can be at home much more the time is finally right for them to have a dog. Just over two weeks ago they got a puppy, a miniature Schnauzer they have named Erik. So they are in the throes of new parenthood and very understandably cannot make the weekend after all.
So instead The Daughter is coming over to join us for a few days, and to use the room so's not to waste the booking. One Friday 31 May we are having dinner out in our local town in what is reputed to be the the best restaurant in the area. Certainly one has to book a long way in advance, so that is an excellent sign, and its reputation precedes it. We've wanted to eat there for years, but only just got round to it, with this milestone anniversary as a spur.
Then the next day we are off for a weekend at the seaside, to stroll on beaches, paddle, take the furnicular railway up the cliff and view the camera obscura at the top, have a ride on a narrow gauge railway, eat ice cream, all that trad stuff. All of which, I have checked in advance, can include The Dog.
I cannot imagine The Husband will be happy to leave the MGB behind, so he will have the intense pleasure of driving The Daughter over to Aberystwyth, and having a pretty young woman in the passenger seat next to him, living out the stereotypical middle-aged male fantasy, while yours truly devotedly follows behind in the Peugeot with the Dog, the bags, the picnic kit and (woohoo!) the heater, the stereo and the power steering! I am not blind to the charms of the Peugeot so I think it will pan out that he is my car (it's a definite he) and the MGB is the Husband's. Seems a fair division of spoils.
I have warned The Daughter to bring trousers and a leather jacket and a scarf or a hat as the sensible clothing options for open-topped motoring. I fully expect her to come downstairs the morning we set off eye-catchingly accoutred wth huge sunspecs and a (cough cough knock-off) Hermes scarf, a latter day Grace Kelly or Audrey Hepburn. She is a bit of a stunner, The Daughter, with a fabulous sense of style.
Here she is in Rome, on the weekend of her 30th Birthday, in 2010.
Well, breeding will out...