So here is the latest installment in the book I seem to be writing about long distance marriages:
We knew Rob would be going back to training for a month or two at the beginning of next year and as sucky as it is, we were mentally prepared to do the bbm love for a bit again.
 I recon when you get engaged to a soldier you have to expect separation of some sort. Then when he became a industrial fireman at the beginning of our marriage and our hours meant we were a little like ships that pass in the night (then collide about smallest issues – amazing what strain a one day a week marriage can take) we took it in our stride (sort of). It was never permanent so when the chance to follow his dream and study as a detective came up we knew some sacrifice would be needed, but hey there was a bigger picture because after a year away he could complete his training close to home and then get stationed right here, right? wrong! Turns out he is getting transferred again next year. MY WORD! we not 100% on place , but from what we understand it’s going to be a small farming community I am so not ready to move to a one horse town and be the policeman’s wife (don’t think they have a thriving media industry over there). I’m not looking down on housewives, it’s the exact opposite, the idea of “keeping a home” makes me dizzy, wayyy to much laziness resides in me.
 The other option is me staying and working here while Rob gets a flat wherever he is stationed and we do the weekend marriage thing (the price of petrol is not going to let us travel more than once a week) So now we wait to hear the whole story, wish us luck it’s about time we get more than a few months at the same address.