My wife does competitions. Always has. Obsessive you might say. She wins on the odd occasion which helps to rationalise the activity. The more common prize she wins is a short holiday break somewhere in England – hey not to be sniffed at – especially if she decides to take her husband with.
And so it was, some months ago that she won a Champagne Dinner for 2 and overnight stay at a Posh hotel in Stratford. (Avon, darling…not the one overlooking an Olympic building site).
However B contacted the hotel and said she’d love to come but unfortunately can’t as she (we) did not want to be so far from the hospital in case I get the call to show up for the liver transplant. So she asked if it could be deferred until after I have had my operation and am sufficiently recovered that we could make it our first little outing together with our new liver.
The were accommodating. Some months later I duly had my transplant, and started on my road to recovery.
We figured that I would/should be ready by the end of May – which, conveniently coincided with our anniversary. So B contacted the hotel a few weeks ago and booked us in for next weekend. Not this weekend. The following weekend.
That’s great. Don’t you just love it when a plan works out so neatly? A lovely romantic weekend away with my lovely wife as we celebrate the beginning of a new era.
Sat 28th May. Wembley. Man Utd v Barcelona. European Champions League Final.
Pate de foie gras, sir?