The two of us headed off to Wales for the night on Saturday and thankfully, when we arrived home yesterday afternoon, there were still just two of us. More of that in a second.
We went down to a little village near Wrexham to visit Vanessa's good friend Louise who emigrated to Australia a few years ago. We had the privilege to stay with her in Sydney at the start of 2007 and, when we got married just over three years ago, Loopy Lou was a bridesmaid.
As for the weekend, it was terrific fun (what I can remember of it) and we had the added bonus of seeing Vanessa and Louise's equally good friend Jenny and her man Roge who themselves are due to get married next year. The pic shows, from left to right, Vanessa, me, Jenny and Louise.
Amidst the laughs, there was a definite sadness in the air. We all spent a lot of time together when we lived in London in the late 90s and early 2000s and, when we do all meet up, we're never sure when it'll happen again.
The other overriding emotion was one of recurring panic. It was a good two hour drive each way and, with me not yet "licensed," Vanessa had to do the driving. With just over three weeks left, the possibility of an imminent birth is now a real one.
But had it happened this weekend somewhere amidst the valleys, it would've been a catastrophe. It would've been hideous. It would've been horrible. It would've been an absolute, complete, total and utter disaster.
Our baby would've been Welsh.
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