Gloves Off

for the next round! That's what it feels like sometimes. The Sunday Tea Party went reasonably well. I was an attentive hostess but I felt distracted. MyMan wanted to help share the hosting duties. We agreed he would pass the tea cups around. I remember exactly how different peole like their tea. From black and very, very strong to one that is weak as water with a very small dash of tea and milk. Except MyMan disappeared when I was making the tea. He seemed to not want to stay with our guests unless I was in the room. Then when it came to handing around the tea he forgot our arrangement. Never mind we muddled through. Friends said it was good to see him brighter and happier. So that's good then!

Monday we had a few disagreements and minor niggles. I returned to the subject of wishing to have a dog or to plan for a dog in our lives again at some point in the near future. If only he had held out the promise of 'maybe, at some time, but not yet' I would have agreed. But it was the definite 'no we can't cope' and 'you're not being realistic' that fired me up. He is definitely against the idea. He said we'd need to move to premises more suited for a dog. He doesn't like this house and wants to return to a more rural existence. So I go to the estate agents and come home with several house details. But he has no energy to even consider making a move at all in the near future. We also know that our next move should be more in line with a move towards town, in readiness for our older age, rather than further out into the country. But if I can't have a dog until we have moved to somewhere more suitable; then a house move may be on the cards sooner than MyMan thinks. Either that or we go for his and her homes: "My Wife Next Door".

As it is - while My Man was out at his counselling session I played Westlife's "Allow Me to be Frank" - very loudly. And I danced, pranced, foxtrotted and quick stepped around the whole place for half an hour pretending I was Ginger Rogers. Today I ache in every joint and am pleased that I've not to go around clearing dog/cat fur off the furniture or dragging my aching legs around the woods behind a gambolling dog.