The appalling attacks in Paris this friday were, perhaps for me the low point in few months of steadily growing distress. These came on top of the nightmare that is the middle eastern refugee crisis and growing awareness of just how close we are to living under a totalitarian corporate regime (just look at the TTIP trade agreement if you doubt.) Continue reading Dirty hands, clean mind.
A girlie week au bord de la mer, exploring a new patch of France and breathing in some sea air. We’ve been on our holidays to Penmar’ch on the south coast of Brittany.
Boy, it’s been a treat to the senses. The sight and sounds of the sea. To feel the sand beneath my feet and to taste the delights of the region. Having grown up by the sea I guess I just took the beach for granted and I haven’t missed it but to be back is rather lovely and particularly such a beautiful spot.
What a fabulous party!
It wasn’t without it’s dramas and certainly zapped all my organisational powers but it all came together and was a great night.
Friday we managed to get the marquees up before the rain came. Boy did it come down. As we sat under the canvas hardly able to hear ourselves speak with the heavy rain mum cracked out the whiskey and we reassured ourselves that it would be fine – fine…..
Friday night I lay in bed listening to the rain and wind hoping it would change but resigned to the fact the show will go on regardless.
And despite the nervous exhaustion engendered by the last ten days of fun and limited sleep, reality is still pretty cool. I’m probably only postponing the bump but hey – no reason yet to frown.
Crazy, crazy week, with stress building as the prospect of leaving my little nest becomes imminent. I’m usually quite good at shoving stuff into little subconscious pockets until the last possible moment, but a trip back to Ingerland is always rife with mixed feelings. This week has been more than usually difficult.