On Saturday we took a road trip. This had been weeks if not months in the planning. Every time we said we were going to go circumstances changed. But on Saturday we got away, I had a bye for hockey, the girl’s uni was finished for the semester, there were no parties booked in and for just a day the book my partner is editing was put on hold.
I packed a picnic lunch, grabbed the winter woolies and we set off up the Bucketts Way to Gloucester.
We ohh’d and ahh’d at how green it was, dreamt of a day when we would own property and editing is the girl’s only job with me doing the admin side of running our own business and talked and talked about everything and anything as long as it wasn’t trains, the book or the disappointment of not been able to go on the holiday we so carefully planned.
I packed my camera and happily snapped away at old buildings, gorgeous rivers, yellow Smurf villages, my girl, lunch, roadside alpacas and the change of season.
As we meandered our way home the girl caught forty winks as the sun slowly set over the mountains. We drove past the beach home and as the last light of the day dropped over the horizon we pulled into the driveway. Dinner was already made and just needed to be heated and we had no pressing activities for the night. It was a day that was everything I hoped it would be and the wait made it even more blissful.
It truly was a perfect day.