So a quiet weekend beckons ahead. A weekend of knitting, reading, dusting (only because it gives me an illusion of being in control of my surroundings) and chickflicks. Two days of joss sticks (they make him sneeze) pizza, chocolate I don't have to share and 48 hours in which to indulge in face packs and lavender scented sheets. No yelling conversations between rooms, twangy guitar or shouting down the phone (all telephone calls are conducted at Dom Joly levels).

He's off camping (in all senses of the word) with his besto hermano.

I do love living with him. Really...