So after my knee op and a week in the Dolomites with my parents I have spent a week in Northern Ireland with my in-laws before this week in Scotland with my loves.
I have been lucky this summer to get plenty of space to spend time with all and sundry.
My parents (the sods), happily retired as they are, have spent much of the early summer jaunting in Europe and it was pleasant to join them for the tail end of their trip including a bit of time in the mountains in Italy. Despite hoping to walk and maybe even climb once I was there a little bit of the reality of having torn cartilege in my knee hit home. Although the keyhole surgery went very well it is true that it was too soon to even walk more than a kilometre without pain. Nevertheless both my parents and my dog forgave me and soon I was walking further and further.
After that little excursion I was back in the UK for some of the Olympics (on which more later) before heading to the wilds of Belfast and the excitement of the in-laws.
I love my wife very much, and as such I am both grateful to and thankful for my in-laws. I do respect their opinions and even care about their well-being but gods know we have some fundamentally different view-points (not least on the fantasticness of my sweet W) so spending time with them is always complicated. I want to make them happy and proud, I want to be sure my wife is comfortable and adored and I feel like my existence is a blot on their life-chart. So overall it was with relief that the mrs and I engaged on a series of adventures to keep out of the way of the smother and make her life basically easier. I wish that given the shit that the family have gone through and constantly struggle with I was in a position to improve things but I fear the best I can offer is being out the way.
However, planning was to hand and the wife and I have moved straight from parents to the highlands of Scotland having been picked up by B. Hurrah for the hills and hiding with my loves.