I call you 'him' as I know how you love your anonymity, being a Londoner born and bred. You haven't featured on this blog an awful lot but that doesn't mean you're not there. You are my rock, my friend, my drinking buddy, the linchpin of the family, a great dad, my lover and you share my sometimes wayward views.
It's our wedding anniversary next week, 8 years of marriage but we also have 10 years of friendship,1 year of courting and 3 years of living in wonderful, hedonistic sin to add to the relationship. I have known you for 21 years. Darn, that's a long time.
Thank you for everything. For rolling the doobies in Uni, for coming to visit me in Cirencester and rescuing me from the runner beans, for taking us to Spain for a few years to play, talk Spanish and learn about the finesse of sherry and chewiness of jamon. Thank you for joining in my adventures, for showing the country girl London, thank you for moving to Sussex and trying gardening, in your white wellies. Thank you for holding me in labour and taking photo's of the Houses of Parliament, for dealing with that first nappy and the 598 after that. Thanks babs.
Let's have some more adventures! Every year we have tried to push the boundaries a bit further, let's show our children the real world together but save some of the world for us, when the girls fly the nest. I'm looking forward to you coming home tonight so we can light a fire, laugh at the cats, drink too much red wine, get angry at everyone who doesn't think like us, laugh at times past, share stories of the day and listen to hard-bloody-house music.
I love you my babs,
This is just the beginning.