I am writing to tell you that I shall be away next week. I am embarking on something quite foreign for me – a holiday!
Andrew never really liked holidays and it’s rare I’ve ever come home from one thinking “that was just what we needed - we should plan the next one”. Usually we would come home early and I would vow “NEVER AGAIN”. Airports, queues, traffic, people all conspired against us.
Youngest son is very much like his father and enjoys staying at home in familiar surroundings.
Oldest son likes going away and travels on teenager adventures.
I get stuck somewhere in the middle, feeling like I am missing out.
I first looked at holidays abroad, maybe a walking holiday, a chance to meet new friends and have a dramatic change of scene.
In the end that seemed too big a leap to take and I plumped for more of a retreat, not too far away and only Monday to Friday. It sometimes seems like second best but maybe it is just what I need and where I should be.
I am going to Scargill House for a week led by a well-known Christian speaker/writer Adrian Plass and his wife Bridget.
I’m hoping to get writing tips, make new friends, and generally have a break and recharge my batteries. Just the thought of not having to think about what to cook for tea every night is exhilarating!
But it’s scary too going somewhere new and the first question everyone asks is,
“Who are you going with?”
This is a solo mission, why does that seem so strange?
I panic - maybe I haven’t thought this through properly – who shall I take as a companion?
Then I start to question do I really need a break? I’ve been feeling quite good lately.
- There was the boost of knowing that the Once Upon A Time stories are going to be published.
- Our Wedding Anniversary safely negotiated.
- New Twitter writing friends who make me smile and offer words of encouragement.
- Actually taking my tablets regularly has also been a big help to my mood (St Johns Wort now, not antidepressants, so I feel I’m taking small steps forward.)
Then there’s the inconvenience of my dad taking time off work and both parents coming to look after the boys. It doesn’t seem fair.
And now I keep thinking of all the things that could go wrong, sometimes the alarm doesn’t set right, the washing machine started playing up this week and what if the estate agent rings and someone wants to look round the house.
Youngest son doesn’t want me to go because my parents are a lot stricter than I am.
“I’m going to chain you to a wardrobe; no I’m going to chain you in a wardrobe!”
Perhaps Narnia is a safer option.
It’s all just holiday jitters I suppose.
I may not be going very far but a new adventure awaits and I’m sure I’ll have a lot to tell when I return…