Sunday, 18 August 2019
Is there any news?
I went on holiday for a week and didn't hear any news at all. It was rather lovely. Was there any? Does it matter whether I know about it or not? I do of course know the cricket score, which was force fed to me by the urchins. Otherwise I am a blank slate.
Wales was glorious as ever. The sea, the mountains, the air, the greenness, the sheep and the gentle, beautiful Welsh rain, keeping everything lush. Water trickling over slate, ferns growing out of walls, moss covering old wood and ancient stone, lichens creeping slowly over rocks.
There was mountain biking, body boarding, swimming, dog walking and stone skimming. And more ice-cream than you could shake a stick at. The biggest boy and I went to Bardsey Island for the day. There are just a handful of houses there, and of course several dozen sheep. Someone has a polytunnel and grows salad and you can buy homemade jams and chutneys. It is utterly peaceful. I would rather like to stay there for a while, far from the madding crowd as it were.
But for now I am at home, where the mad crowd are round and about, but all is as it should be and I am grateful and glad. The dog is tired but doing his job of keeping everyone accounted for and rounded up well as ever. I'm tired too as it happens. Holidays can be hard work, but oh so lovely. One day I think I shall move to Wales and have a slate wall of my very own, with ferns growing out of it and moss on the steps. In the meantime I am happy to be here, with a messy garden, a laundry mountain and everyone present and accounted for. If you have any news of your own, I would love to hear, but you don't need to bother updating me on the rest of the world, I shall save that for another day. Or not.