We live busy lives together. Hubster commutes to London every day (much admiration for him), and I have a busy job locally (at last, after 12 years of commuting various places).
Apart from that, we try to keep up with our many hobbies, like sports (triathlon mostly, or any of the disciplines on their own), our family which are partly abroad, our friends, paddle-boarding (goes well with the van luckily), as well as generally keeping the house up together, and looking after our lovely vdub dog.
Unsurprisingly, and like most people, it can sometimes feel like things get on top of me. Big work deadlines looming, the dog has run out of food, the hubster has run out of clean pants, the car needs its MOT, the van is in the garage (again!), a 10 mile run race is looming but no training has been done, no groceries done so no dinner (again!), a family birthday (abroad…), a friend’s wedding, need an outfit, still not been to the gym… The list goes on. Society’s pressures, my brain playing tricks on me. Never enough hours in the day.
But then the weekend comes, and we quickly throw some clothes in the van, add some firewood, some milk and teabags, and some pantry staples, and we’re off.
Not much phone signal, no mobile internet signal, a field, a beach, a river or a woodland. Park up, get the kettle on, get the chairs out and enjoy the calm and quiet. Enjoy the surroundings, meet new people, find new places and have little adventures.
All worries melt away, my brain switches off from the daily grind, and I don’t have a care in the world. None of it matters anymore, but just to be wherever we are, and enjoying the weekend.
It provides a bit of perspective, and reminds me, every day, how lucky we are. Our van keeps me sane.