The Man and I have split up. ‘You took too long deciding whether to marry me,’ he says. He's right of course: that sort of question deserves an instant answer - or at least a response within eighteen months.
But in reality we both know it would never have worked, not least because we were hardly ever in the same country at the same time.
He has many fine qualities, including an excellent knowledge of all things rural, inbuilt GPS and a flair for making onion bhajees. But I have come to the conclusion that I am not the marrying kind.
So we have parted on amicable terms, I am no longer his Minx, and he is going back to the UK this weekend to be reunited with his ex-girlfriend. As for me, I am a free spirit again. But now I have my little four legged soulmate, this doesn't seem so bad.