Delia Smith (Oh hail the great Goddess of good cooking) wrote a book called ‘One is Fun’ – well I’m sorry but in my world tonight one is definitely not fun.

When I got home from work tonight, I was struck by the poignancy of my lonely toothbrush without its playmate, sitting on the shelf in the bathroom and I immediately had my PotD. Actually, he’s not gone yet but his driver has just arrived, I can hear chatting going on downstairs as I write.

(An hour later) Well, he’s gone. My wonderful cosy world has become a quiet, lonely place for what seems like forever stretching out ahead of me. It’s amazing how long five days can feel. Of course, I’m not alone, I have all sorts of people lined up to take away my emptiness but it’s a hollow feeling nonetheless.

DM feels it too – both before I went away in March and over this last weekend there has been an electrical charge in the air between us that’s hard to define. We seem to bicker, which is very rare for us, and then spend inordinate amounts of time ‘making up’ or just hanging onto one another. It’s mostly unspoken but the tension is almost visible.

While I was away he posted pics of himself on four of the five days we were apart to give me comfort while I was away. I can’t do this same thing for him because he won’t be able to see PBASE from his campsite. I have to confess to getting a knot in my stomach when he showed me his new mobile phone (he’d been using one that was the size of a housebrick for years) and he’d got my photo from last week on its display. I have no idea how he did it other than I followed him around Camberley last weekend while he muttered about data cables. Anyway, there I was smiling up at myself on his phone display. How wonderful is that? I felt fit to burst with all sorts of stuff.

Last year, on the day he went, I took this photo of him and I reckon it’ll be my companion this year too. It’s so David and he looks so wonderful in it.

I have a major fly in my ointment in as much as Jo (the naked housekeeper) has gone missing (again) and I’m told she won’t be back before the weekend and as she is my dog-sitter when I’m at work while David is away I now have the task of finding a replacement, something I could really do without. She always does this in my moments of need. She’ll be as good as gold and reliable for months when it doesn’t really matter if she turns up or not and yet when she’s really needed she goes AWOL. It drives me nuts.

Last autumn, before DM and I went to Barcelona, she went missing, having agreed to stay here for the week and I was faced with finding a house-sitter from an agency on the morning we went away. It’s as if she deliberately does it to cause maximum difficulty. I’m told that she’s in Tenerife and won’t be back till Sunday despite her assertions that she could be trusted to do this for me. Grrrr. So, tomorrow I have to find an alternative solution to my dilemma.

Ah well, at least it’s something to occupy my mind and energy for a bit at least.

Now? I’m off downstairs to have a glass or two of wine with a dog curled up on each side of me and wallow for a bit. Pathetic huh?