Today I sorted out a plan that’s been knocking round my head for the last couple of weeks. While the rest of the family go to the in-laws in Pembrokeshire (How Not To Turn Down An Invitation: I’m sorry, but if I have to spend time together in a confined space, I’m afraid I might actually kill one of you), I’m going to be walking, up the coast from Alnmouth to Lindisfarne.
All by myself, at my own pace.
This is either an excellent idea, or a breathtakingly bad one: if it doesn’t sort out the mess inside my head, nothing will.
I am a little bit scared.
The thing about marriage and kids is that you don’t do things alone any more. I’m feeling the need to check that I still can.
I’m not sure what I’ll do if I don’t want to come back home…