Drunk, and tired. And missing M, which is sad, as I saw him less than 4 hours ago. Wish we were hear together getting ready to go away for christmas, with music and chatting and kisses, rather than me being alone in the house. Really hope he's actually ready to go on time tomorrow. Really hope *I'm* ready to go on time tomorrow. And I have such a lot to do, cards to write, presents to pack, clothes to sort out...
I've had such a nice two days. Cleaning the house was strangely satisfying. It is cleaner than when we moved in now (especially the bathrooms, where I removed some really stubborn stains from bits of the sink that no-one will ever see... unless you're in the habit of lying on your back on our bathroom floor staring at the sink) And then M came home early, which was very good. Everything was wonderful, and we went round Tesco together and it was just Good, in the way that doing something with someone you love should be. I felt really special and loved and happy. Then we went home, and ignored the house cleaning for a little, and then cooked really good sausages. Then dancing, which despite knowing nothing was very good. (There was slight doom on the way there due to my inability to drive / turn round, but this mearly highlighted Matthews patience and consideration) Luckilly there were a great number of people wanting to teach me stuff. One really exciting spinny waltz which I thought would never end, a flirtatious (if repetative) in and out dance, a couple of fun progressive things, the ancient french equivalent of a conga, and a couple of "almost ballroomesque" partner dances. Then home, and blue peteresque fun helping Sarah make her christmas present, and then to collapse into bed and sleep.
Today didn't start out promising. It was my fate, as proofreader, to find out that LaTeX (or rather the Macs interesting interpretation of LaTeX where 2=0) had messed up M's lit review, which given it was due in this morning didn't make him happy. Add to this the fact that my obsessive cleaning seemed to have removed one of the digits from the answer phone desplay, and it all became a bit much all at once. Which left me feeling really guilty for upsetting him, as obviously I'd broken the phone, and somehow finding the mistakes in the text made them feel like my fault...
However, it must be nearly Christmas, for magically crazyscot was seeking someone to take flying, which Matthew has been longing to do for as long as Ross has had his license. As M wasted large amounts of time getting my IRC working, it was a nice example of "what goes around comes around" when I was able to tell him that we were off out for the afternoon to mess about in planes. He doesn't bounce as impressively as I was doing, but I think I could tell by his plaintive "can I sit in the front" that he was keen on the idea. And it was wonderful and magical. I've never been in a little fixed wing thing, and it was great fun. Strange being able to taxi around the airfield rather than fly, and strange being at a really small airfield where you don't have to announce it every time you want to move 2 meters. Planes seem to be much less stress than helicopters. But despite there being more haze than expected, it was a really magical flight. From windmills and churches, Wimpole hall (and the folly just as I remembered it) to the most spendid view of Cambridge (My excitement when I spotted churchill (my first glimpse of the Cambridge I know) was scary. The CMS shines from the air. And old Cambridge from the air is even more beautiful than the postcards. My college looked nice too) out over fens and rivers, nice view of Ely cathedral (memories of a walk long ago) Holbeach (where I spent so long as a child) roads, and haze and sun (and unexpected parachutists...) It was great.
Back, showed Ross Rivendell (which is more impressive than ever in its current clean state) my Dad turned up, and we had a really nice meal at The Pheonix in Histon.
And the answer phone magically has both digits again. Proving that
a)M stresses too soon about things, instead of trusting God to sort them out
b) I'm jolly lucky I don't have to fork out for a new answerphone.