A Weekend Away

I was going to begin this post with some sort of clever remark about nobody searching me out to discover where I have been for the last few days, but then realised that everybody I kind-of know via the internet follows me on Instagram, so would have seen the daily photos taken from here there and everywhere.

So where have I been?

After getting home from Germany on Friday, I had a window of about two hours to wash clothes, and then pack the car to travel to Devon (south west of England) for a rugby tour with our younger daughter’s team. The entire weekend passed in a mad blur really – I’m sure I’ll think of things to write about over the coming days – it was your usual weekend away really – walking on the beach, spending four hours on a bus half-full of teenage girls who sang non-stop, dressing up as “Where’s Wally”, and standing in muddy fields for hours while trying to keep the kids happy. Oh – we also spent an hour painting pottery – because we could.

Getting home was something of an adventure, on account of holiday traffic filling every road in the entire south west part of the country with caravans or mobile homes. I so wish there was such a thing as a “Caravan Missile”.

Today I am back in the office. The house closely resembles Roy Neary’s house in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” – remember the bit when he built a replica of Devil’s Tower in the lounge? We have the same thing, but made of dirty washing, throughout much of the downstairs.

I imagine evenings this week will be spent filling the washing machine and tumble dryer again, and again, and again – at least until it bursts into flames.


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