Gone fishing!

^{The photo that made me miss my husband tonight!}

My dearest friends,

Have you ever wondered what happens at home when your husband has gone fishing and you are left behind? Believe me when I tell you that it is not just binge-watching those series you’ve been missing, nor is it taking naps when you want to. No, there is so much more to it.

Let me share my day and also my photo of the day with you.

It all started when my husband got a WhatsApp message from a friend telling him that they were going out on the boat for three days and asking him if he wanted to join. Now, how on earth can you say no when those sheepish green eyes look you in the eyes, head slightly tilted, and a face that asks, “Pretty please.”

“It is Monday! It is the start of the week, and you are busy with a program that was just launched. There are no ways that you can go.” I replied.

Then I heard it all. It is not just a boat; it is a yacht! It is only for three days. They are going to sleep on the boat, and they are taking a skipper so that they won’t have to worry about steering the boat. Best of all, I don’t have to pack anything. Famous last words.

Okay, I am sure that by reading the heading of the post you have gathered that I have given in. “Yeah, okay, but you make sure you stay on the boat, and you better be back on Wednesday as it is your birthday.”

The packing pandemonium started. You might think it’s just a casual fishing trip on the wide ocean, but for me, and not for my husband, it is a full-scale expedition. I have learned that I would rather do the packing myself, as I then know that nothing gets left behind.

It is normally me rummaging through his closets looking for the fishing hat. You know, that lucky hat—yes, that one that looks like Crocodile Dundee’s and that also comes all the way from Australia. I cannot understand why he doesn’t put it in its place after each fishing expedition. Um, that is a question, and I already know the answer. He is spoiled.

As for food, they normally all just club in when they get to the harbor where the yacht is stored. Two of them will go do the shopping, and the others will load the fishing gear, etc. This time it was different. The men left without hubby, as he first had to pop into the office. He will catch up with them later in the day. I think I must have asked him a hundred times if there was anything I must pack extra or buy. No, all is fine.

Off to work he goes while I was still busy putting everything out on the bed. Now I have to laugh. Yes, packing everything out on the bed is a serious thing for me. I have a list, a thick, and a red khoki pen. Each item gets ticked when placed on the bed. He always tells me that I pack with the seriousness of an astronaut prepping for a space mission. Well, my packing helped him when he had blisters on his fingers from the jigging, when he had cramps on his stomach, not to mention when he got seasick.

I just sat down to enjoy a cup of tea when I got a message. “I must take cheese and bread rolls.” It doesn’t even help to ask him what cheese and what bread rolls, as for him they are all the same.

Next, I started to receive messages from my stepson. “Please come fetch me. Nothing is happening at school.” I had just finished speaking to him when my phone rang. It was a guest who booked for a couple of days in October, but they have now unexpectedly sold their house, and they need to pack and move. They want to move their booking to the end of January.

I rushed to my computer to check the availability, confirmed with them that we could change the booking, applied via the booking system, issued a new invoice, and changed my record keeping.

Okay, I have no idea what time hubby wants to leave, and I now have to stop at the supermarket, plus I had to fetch my stepson from school. Best of all, the rain was now pouring. With the garage at the back, I had to run +/- 100 meters in the rain, as I could not find my umbrella. Umh… I discovered later that my stepson took it to school. As I was running down the driveway, the domestic worker shouted at me from the bedroom window. “Mam, the milk is sour.”

Amidst the chaos, I was left marveling at the amount of items that were now on my shopping list. It was no longer just bread rolls and cheese. I am all too familiar with the amount of snacks one person needs for a hobby that involves sitting quietly, I had to think about supper as I was not going to cook for two.

I made it! I was back with the shopping—four types of cheese, three types of bread rolls, arms full of snacks, something for dinner, and two bottles of milk—before my husband. Of course, and with me, stepson.

I was just in time to check on the gardener and the domestic worker and to see them out. It was with the latter that hubby pulled into the yard in a hurry. He just grabbed everything, gave us each a kiss and a hug, and off he went.

When the door slammed shut, the house was transformed into an eerie silence. You know, the kind that makes the refrigerator humming seem like a symphony. I was all alone as my stepson was all too happy to play games in his room, headphones on, and the door closed. Yippee! It was my time!

I made myself a sandwich and a cup of tea and went and sat on the couch, feet in the air. I was enjoying the sweet sound of—well, nothing. It was surprisingly peaceful at first, but soon the quiet became a canvas for my imagination to run wild. The sandwich, once a masterpiece, now feels like a lonely meal staring at me. I was already missing him.

I switched the television on and watched a couple of episodes of my favorite sitcoms. Did you know that without the advertisement, an episode is between 20 and 22 minutes?

Then I started to feel guilty for not doing something productive. Soon it was replaced with worries. I have not heard from hubby, and he should have been there by now, as the harbor they are launching from is only 1.5 hours from home. With the heavy rain, I also didn’t want to phone while he was driving. The last thing I wanted was him talking on the phone while he was supposed to concentrate on the road. A road that carries a lot of traffic and timber trucks.

At last, I heard from him. With the rain and traffic, it took him a lot longer to get there.

I no longer felt like watching television. Instead, still seated in the recliner coach, I started to page through the photos on my phone. Somehow all the photos of my husband, the boats we had over the years, and the fishing in the most wonderful places were the ones that caught my eye. I was now truly missing him.

As it was getting darker, I now had a renewed appreciation for the small things we do together, the looks he gives me at times, my hand he holds at night when we are in bed, not to mention the towels he puts next to the washing basket instead of inside.

In the end, it turns out that a day apart can be just as enriching as a day together. It’s a reminder that even when your husband goes fishing, the real catch is the joy of coming back home. I might be sleeping alone tonight and tomorrow night, but on Wednesday he will be back, and both of us will have stories to tell.

I should rather say he will continue with his stories, as he has already started his. I get WhatsApp messages and photos now and again. He is having a ball with the boys!

Deep down, I know that he is also missing me.

Until next time!