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An Ode to the English Summer

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Having children is a little bit like spending the afternoon on this pebbly beach. It was like arriving in heaven as the sun shone, the sea gently lapping at the shore, the peace and tranquillity that sea air brings. Just as you get that momentous feeling of calm when your new baby is placed in your arms. Everything will be wonderful. And then you have to drop everything and run down the pebbles to the sea barefoot because the toddler is refusing to wee in the water like everyone else and is doing it on the beach. Dream over and suddenly my feet hurt like hell as I’m desperately trying to get back to the little beach tent without splitting open my soles on the stones. I love England but a few more sandy beaches really would be welcome.

This summer has already been so glorious it feels as if it’ll last forever but the children seem to be continuously hungry for ice-creams. The 99 should really be renamed The Extortionate Cone or the 2.99er but at least we haven’t had to fork out for day trips to theme parks. If you want a thrill down in Devon then run into the sea because we Brits can handle frozen waters so long as the sun is shining, whatever the temperature! Pebble beaches need a little more imagination as burying a child in pebbles is a fraction heavier than sand and needs to be done gently. “GENTLY! You can’t shovel them on!” Ah, it was going so well. It’s the first time in 12 years that we could take turns to relax on a beach. Although our eyes still have to be everywhere, one set of eyes so far today have sufficed. (Actually, I just glanced up to count children and saw a lady desperately trying to be discreet about changing under a towel and I couldn’t help but giggle! The French/German/Dutch etc are happy to strip off but we’re so out of practice of slipping into a bikini we need a ring of friends holding up towels in a circle to get changed!)

In the time it’s taken me to write this short blog I’ve been asked approximately 7 times for a snack (we only had lunch an hour ago) and there are multiple Macca Pacca style rock formations in front of me courtesy of my 7 yr old. You see, no technology DOES make you more creative. I was right. But then again, I’m always right.

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