We're off on holiday on Saturday. To Fuerteventura in the Canary Islands. I plan to sleep, eat ice cream, read, swim, eat, you know the sort of thing. A good relaxing time. I feel I need it. Since January I've had two bad infections and I just want to rest! However Husband has other ideas.
'We're going to walk up a volcano,' he says.
'A dormant one?'
'Oh, yes. I don't think they've had an eruption for a long time.'
'So they could be due for one about now?'
Hmmm. I consider this.
'But the experts will be keeping an eye out for rumblings, won't they?'
'Oh, yes, but it will be suppressed.'
'What do you mean?'
'They won't want to put tourists off so they'll be made to keep quiet.'
Seems depressingly likely. So, instead of worrying about the possibility of being killed by lava I decide to look at it another way.
'We need to plan a pose then.'
'What?' Husband is confused.
'Well, if I am to be preserved for perpetuity I want archaeologists of the future to dig me up and wonder what I was doing.'
'Oh yes, well, we'd be in each other's arms obviously.'
Romantic but how much more interesting if we were preserved doing a pas de deux?
Husband then points out that if the boiling lava gets us we won't be preserved but burned to a melting blob of fat and charred bits. No imagination some people.