Your part time relationship is reminiscent of that of service personnel who really are here today and gone tomorrow, irrespective of whether it is with the hubby, the wife, the girlfriend or lover. The other party feel the same as you have felt and continue to feel. I guess the service men and women do too, but turn to, with the stiff upper lip. Not sure I could do that.

Menhir's comments got me thinking about one of my issues of concern. She's quite right about this. I believe that anyone who has to work with trauma and see or hear awful things needs support, but there is an interesting divide in attitude, culture and availability that I've noted.

Professional counsellors are considered unprofessional and fall foul of their code of conduct if they do not receive supervision. Actually talking about their work, debriefing and reflecting on the effect that it has on them is seen as central to their professional development.

In other services such as forces, emergency services and voluntary organisations that support people another culture seems to prevail. Often supervision, support and/or emotional debriefing is available 'if needed' or 'on demand' and needing it then feels like a neediness or a burden on the provider. The idea of such support being part of professional development, encouraging one to be a reflective practitioner and or promoting mental health and well-being doesn't seem to come into it, let alone it being necessary for one's professionalism.

I do not believe that counselling is for all, and would hate to see it shoved down anybody's throat, but an opportunity to unload, without feeling a failure or burden just makes sense to me.

...now if this was Shakespeare it would be time for lewd winks and the Elizabethan equivalent of 'Oooh, Matron!'

Having scratched my lovely hall floor by dragging the chest of drawers in front of door Wednesday night, I spent Thursday night at work as I was down for night shift.

As is usual for a Friday after a night shift my lover arrived mid-morning, brought me a cup of tea and crept into my bed. I can recommend this as way of gently recovering from a night's work!

Unlike our usual relaxed Fridays together fixing my lock had become an essential. We went in search of a replacement lock of same type plus a couple of discreet bolts for front door. And as we were out anyway took opportunity for buying some macho garden gate-type bolts for my ancient side door.

The replacement lock was same principle (Yale-type key but with bolt) but different make. We decided if it was easy to replace he would do that. If not, put on bolts for interim and replace next week.

Had quite good lunch in slightly iffy part of city and returned to house. Removed lock and new one didn't simply fit in neatly so Plan B. That's when we discovered discreet brass bolts were designed to go into hole in frame proud of door and didn't actually have 'receiver bits'to attach to frame...

And so we came up with Plan C! I now have ugly green garden gate type bolts on my lovely front door, roughly attached, but solid.

Part two of Plan C is that next week I get my new lock fitted and bolts removed. Meanwhile I slept easily in my bed last night!

I wasn't actually sure if anything in my purse had my address, but so many identity things there, it was possibility. As a matter of common sense I don't have address or even name on my keyring, but not thought about loose spare keys in my purse. And today I got my new driving licence and realised the card part does have address! So glad I secured the door even if it was a bit like the proverbial stable one after the horse had bolted.

And although it did all bring up mixed feelings about lover and relationship we both enjoyed our rather unusual Friday together despite everything.

Wonder what ads I'll get this time...