One of the hallmarks of being an adult is NOT howling like a lost dog and sitting in your husband's suitcase as he tries to pack to go away to work for a couple of nights.
So, I didn't.
Actually, that's a lie - I tried to get in to his bag, but I fell over as I was doing it and gave my elbow a nasty bump on the hall table while he stood and laughed at me.
So now I am sitting in bed with a comfortable glass of Speyside single malt and feeling abandoned.
Apart from that though, a Good Weekend. We racked* twelve gallons of various wines yesterday, some of it needing attention for so long that we were lucky it hadn't spoiled.
I am now going to read some more of my book on Ladies in Waiting since the Tudors, eat the rest of the Battenburg cake and pull the petals off daisies until Wednesday and B comes home.
* UPDATE: Sorry Ms Mac and everybody else who isn't a frenzied homebrewer; 'racking your wine' is siphoning it from one glass jar to another, leaving all the sludgy bits behind as they settle out. You do it at least twice during the process, often lots, lots more.