Jealousy is a terrible thing, and I am sooo jealous. I have been away staying with my ex-jobshare, at her newly built cottage, in a picturesque part of the West Country and visiting the birth unit she is now working ‘bank’ at. How wonderful to have a ‘chocolate box’ cottage, complete with a stream running through the front garden. The joy of going to the shops and walking along the sea-front to get there. The luxury of being able to pick and choose when to work, and when you do go to work being able to provide the care you dream of being able to provide, within an environment the women describe as being like a high class hotel.
Then we drove home, 3 1/2 hours. On the way I phoned son to see how they were getting on as they were having Jack and Izzy whilst their Mummy and Daddy went to watch MotoGP. Daughter-in-law had gone for a lie down whilst Son cooked dinner, Jack had asked if he could go and snooze with her, so they were asleep together. Izzy was ‘helping’ her Uncle to prepare dinner and demanding frequent kisses and I realised then that nothing could ever replace the closeness of our family and the priceless rewards of it and I would lose that if we moved away.