11 Years on Sunday

Well, I don't think any of us ever thought I'd be here still to write those words.

The 8th September 2008 was the day I was diagnosed with myeloma – a word I'd never even heard of then – and which, when we looked on Google in abject terror, should have meant about 2-3 years of survival.

If someone had said then, 'I can give you 11 years' I would have bitten their hand off on the spot, as 11 years felt so much more than what I was probably looking at.

Through nothing more than sheer luck (and BUPA cover), here I still am. And very much hoping still that the number of years ahead is a big quantity, because there is still so much more to say, see, do, feel.. All of course thrown even more in the car headlights by Hawksey's diagnosis 10 months ago – already. Time is shooting by at a scary rate of knots. All the more reason to spend every day doing something we love. Something positive for us, and others. Almost knackering ourselves in the process of making sure we squeeze every drop out of this very precious life, with our awesome bunch of friends and families.

Tomorrow at gnat's crack we head to France for a week in Ile de Re (with some inevitable vineyard stops en route, sigh). And will be joined in our rental house there by Jules & Nicky, Pam & Jude (and the Finn monster), and Soph. I'm looking forward to my first whizz on an electric bike (complete with Scrumpy dog carrier behind!), some fruits de mer and hopefully a few spots of sunshine on the beach. H is leaving room in the car for his ever-expanding wine stash…

Much love to you all for still reading this after all these – as fabulous as we can make them – years. Here's to as many more as life will grant us both x