Long distance lives

It's been two and a half weeks now since my husband and I said goodbye at Heathrow. It's the longest we've ever been apart, and we're not even half-way yet. My leaving date is still up in the air, as it relies on various paperwork being done by the airline, and things move very slowly in the Gulf!

To make things worse, we don't yet have an internet connection in our new apartment, so we're relying on a local mobile and a friend's internet connection for occasional Skype sessions. It doesn't make for easy chatting, but we're managing to speak twice a day on average, so that's what matters, really. My husband's getting to grips with his new type rating, which is being condensed to half the time the manufacturers think it should take - hence he's got practically no days off, and he's exhausted. It's a tall order. Still, when he's back in the air at the controls of his magnificent new aircraft, I know he'll think it was all worth it! That's what this aviation lark is about, after all.

On a completely different topic - last night I went to a friend's birthday party and encountered two breeds of homo sapiens I rarely meet; the man who has only read two books in his lifetime, who was married to another species, the woman who thinks the study of history is a waste of time. Both of them fascinated me, in a banging head against wall sort of way. Both concepts are so alien to me I just didn't know what to say, really. Well, I mean, I tried to defend history with the usual "learning from our mistakes" gubbins, and I of course pointed to Dickens, Shakespeare, Larkin etc as fine examples of literature, but honestly, there was little point. After all, it takes all sorts to make a world (I suppose).

Golly, I'm getting intolerant in my advanced age. First a spelling nazi, and now an academic bore..

Maybe I just miss my husband.