My late H used to do the not telling me until the last minute thing when he was going fishing with his friend L. My late H's first wife used to get VERY upset when he would go on these excursions. She wanted him at home all the time. (When he would go out to the garage to work in his shop, she would come out and ask him to come in the house.)

I, OTOH, used to look forward to his fishing trips. I enjoyed the time alone (until he died, of course, and then I couldn't remember for a couple of years why I wanted time alone \:\( ). I could rent foreign movies-- he couldn't do subtitles because his eyesight was so bad-- slack off on cooking, go out in the evening with girlfriends.

But I could NEVER convince him that I didn't mind his trips. He would put off telling me until a couple of days before even though he and L had planned them weeks, even months, ahead of time. Then I would get mad-- not because he was going, but because he didn't tell me because he was afraid I would get mad... if you follow that. I never minded his going-- I loved that he was still able enough to hunt and fish. I trusted his friend L to keep an eye on him and let me know if anything happened. (Alas, L died suddenly at work one day of a heart attack. They found him on the floor of the men's room. The hardest thing I ever had to do was tell my H that his best friend had died) The planning thing wasn't an issue for me, as anything I would do while he was gone would be strictly spur-of-the-moment.

I never was able to convince him that his hunting/fishing trips were a-ok with me. He never said he didn't believe me. I think he did believe me at the moment, but forgot when it was time for the next trip, or else assumed my not being mad the last time was an aberration of some sort.