At peace whilst he's on the piste.

The pond that is my life was given a little stir last week. As you may have gathered, its water had become a little stagnant of late, and it was time to get a bit of life back into it. It's succumbed to a fair bit of dredging these last couple of years, but it's not pollution free yet. A primitive life form still lurks in its depths, hiding under rocks, too afraid to swim out through the pool of blue.

On Friday, Mr S and I shared our last night together as a co-habiting married couple. Ironically, it was one of the best nights I've had in ages because we talked. After taking the ninos for tapas in town, we came home to share a bottle of wine and the leftover olives Pinky had rescued from dinner. We chatted about who was going to live where, how we would manage our finances, what we were going to tell the children about our new domestic arrangement..........all without tears or raised voices. I remember one of the things I love about him; his calm, positive attitude to life and the cards it deals him.

As I write, he's enjoying a bit of apres-ski with the lads. When he returns, he'll house sit for my parents for a month until they return, and he will, hopefully, be close to completing the purchase of his new pad. Officially separated.

I feel alarmingly calm about the whole situation and wonder if this is due to relief or because it doesn't seem real yet. Who knows what the reality of being a single mum will be like for me? I will be finding out over the next few months, so I'll keep you posted!

For now, I am left to tend the pond alone. Time for an early, yet belated spring clean. Should I fish out the deep water creature which has been depleting the water of its oxygen and stirring up a muddy haze with its games of hide and seek? Then I face the dilemma of sending him back to his own murky puddle, creating a fresh new one for him or chucking him out to sea? My instincts are telling me now, that he'd prefer the first option. Big fish wannabe in a small pond.

Once, I mistook the creature for the bud of a lotus flower. I love that they emerge from the muddy depths to become things of such beauty and inspiration but let's face it, what were the chances of a lotus flower surviving in my northern pond?

My creature, or Meuslee as I affectionately call him, seems to be burrowing deeper and deeper. Do I stop chasing and allow him to suffocate or help him out? Either way, I'm hoping that the water will be clearer by summer and life will be thriving in the once negelcted corners.