Another Friday.

Some people love Fridays.

I used to love Fridays.  Lazy weekends with Rich and the AC, fish and chips for tea, and gentleness.
Then I went off them a bit.  AC started sleeping over at his fathers on a Friday night.  But Rich and I would have good nights in.
Then I hated them.  Every Friday was another week without Rich here.  Every one was another weekend that I was alone when he should have been here.

These days, actually, I could almost like them again.  The current swimming set up means that we do art for 2 hours in the middle of the day, with plenty of music, we do library, and Show and Tell, and all the nice things that teachers get to do.

They start a weekend that goes one of two ways - either up the road to Leamington, or not.  If it's not, then it's a weekend where we are AC-less, but where we get to go flying, do school work, bake, tidy, love, be together.  I value my weekends in a way I didn't before the accident.

This weekend we are AC-less again, and there is a thousand tonnes of work to do tomorrow on reports and so forth, and there is a combat competition on Sunday, weather permitting.

It will all be fine.  I was promised it would be, and I refuse to believe that it won't be.