When the going gets tough..

..the tough go shopping.

Husband would not approve of this motto – he is dedicating his life to trying to get us all to save the planet by consuming less  – but sometimes a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do and in my case I feel perversely compelled to make as large a carbon footprint as possible by flying across the world to indulge in my shopping habit.

Ever since I started popping over to London on my own for a week’s escape a couple of years back, I’ve found it rather hard to stop doing that at least once or twice per year. There are many places in the world to visit, of course, and I would like to see more of them but there is nothing quite like coming back to the city of my birth without the cares and responsibilities of everyday life.  I think that one of the things that I like best about these trips is that I am beholden to no-one and I can get up or go to bed exactly when I choose , seem whomever I want without the clock ticking on me and simply wander around thinking about things without the background mental chatter of “Is there anything in the house for supper” or “Does Seven have a clean uniform and does Four understand that he has to stay later at preschool to play T-ball today or will he be crying after lunch because I’m not there to fetch him by naptime?”.  I can sign out of motherhood and wifedom and be completely myself for seven glorious days, by which time I’m ready to come homeand be nice to my family again (I get a bit shrill and batey if I don’t get away from them every now and them).

So, London, here I come. Prepare your shops, assemble your merchandise, stock the kitchens of your restaurants and, most importantly, put on the kettle.

See you in December.

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