A Week of Lasts
This time next week I should be boarding my plane at Heathrow. That means that this is my last week in the UK for, well, I don’t know how long. I’m sure I will be back, I just don’t know when, and that means that this week has become ‘a week of lasts’. It’s ridiculous and irrational but I can’t help myself. Tonight was the last time I’ll go to the local historical society talk. On Wednesday I have two lasts – last time I’ll be in Bristol and last trip to the cinema. Thursday is also planned to be another day with two lasts – last roast dinner and last meal with both mum and Jo. Then it’s my last weekend at home. Then it’s my last night in my bed. Then it’s my last day. My last look around the garden, my last filling of the bird feeders, my last cup of tea, my last hug with Huxley. . .