A little slice of heaven

just to be able to get in the car and GO to some of the most unspoilt places on this planet (even though it's busy at the moment with the school holidays).  With over 50 beaches to pick from, all within half an hour to 50 minutes away, we are truly spoilt for choice.  The only fly in the ointment is trying to get us all unanimously agreeing on the destination... I think I might have missed my vocation as a mediator.

We chose Newgale and Whitesands today.  I don't know what it is about the seaside, but it makes us all so happy; any cares or worries we may have just seem to dissolve away.  To sit with the sun on your face, listening to the roar of the waves, with warm sand between your toes.  A great stress buster.

Newgale

Whitesands, we sat with a take away coffee or two for hours, just people watching...

Stayed for a while longer and had a fish supper too.

Nothing to do but watch the sun go down.

Shwmai

I've always envied people who can speak another language and play an instrument.  I've encouraged (pushed?) G8 into doing both.  She is fluent in Welsh and is learning to play the violin.  It is the best age to learn and I really do not know why both are not compulsory in school when young, because believe you me it gets much harder to do when you are older.

And I chose Welsh.  Not the easiest language to learn - don't get me going on mutations.  I've been so busy this year for one reason or another I just about made it to the Welsh lessons but did nothing in between them.  And it showed.  The tests at the end of term were just a blur, I had little idea about what was going on.  I had to cheat or hide my paper.  It was embarrassing. 

I have made myself a promise:- Bydda i trio i wneud a tipyn bach o Cymraig bob dydd yn y gwyliau nawr.  What I'm trying to say (it may not be completely grammatically correct, remember I'm a learner) is:- I'll try to do a little Welsh every day in the holiday now.  I am so far behind I really need to do this if I am not to lose the plot completely. 

Although I feel I am still such a beginner and cannot (wouldn't dare) have a conversation in Welsh (unless it's with the dog), it does feel a waste of three years to give up.  And if there is one character trait I have in abundance it is tenacity.  I am a plodder.  I get there in the end.  I hate giving up.  It will not beat me. 

Pass me that guitar.

The Aftermath.... an eclectic mix of thoughts

Well we seem to have survived the BIG party... but boy are we all exhausted.  And to top it all we have another six visitors arriving today, (J's brother and family).  I think I shall have to deploy some match sticks to hold my eye lids open. 

We are also dealing with various invasions of insects; ants and wasps to name but two.  It makes you realise that give them a year unchecked and your home would be over run with pests, vermin and various vegetation.  The Victoria Creeper on the front of the house needs a hair cut every other week this time of year, otherwise it really would literally creep into and over the house. 

We have also discovered that rats had been nestling in the loft in The Outback.  These are being dealt with but had only been noticed when the man to service the Rayburn popped his head up into the attic... "How many are there?" Her Next Door shrieked (in pure panic mode), but Boiler Man wouldn't commit himself, just grunted.  This vagueness of course toyed with her dark imaginings; we must have vast colonies up there she insists.  Although only the droppings have been sighted so far.

I also listened to the news last night about Nick Clegg's "suggestion box" and apparently there is still an archaic law that states as a British citizen you are supposed to report sightings of grey squirrels, well we'd be on the phone every half hour.  If there are any laws or regulations you'd like to do away with Nick invites you to comment, see http://yourfreedom.hmg.gov.uk/ for more on this - generally very interesting stuff.  I'm going to put my two penneth in.  Get involved or please don't moan about it.

Letter from The Queen (& Ian Duncan Smith AND The First Minister of Wales AND The Secretary of State for Wales).

Well it’s the morning of my Gran’s 100th. It’s the culmination of a lot of very, very hard work, mainly for Her Next Door. The ‘event’ starts today with Gran’s actual birthday and some people arriving to help us celebrate with an evening meal at Something’s Cooking (thank you Tony), the big party on Saturday through to the final people leaving Tuesday.

Unless you have ever organised a large ‘do’ it’s difficult to understand the amount of hard work that has to go in to it. So much to think about; invitations, organising who stays where (thank you to our neighbours who have been fantastic), talking to the B&Bs for those we just can’t accommodate, organising transport to and from the B&Bs, the venue, music, balloons, food, the cake (thank you Tracey), drinks, contingency plans if it rains, organising the letter from the queen, publicity.

The list is endless. Her Next Door has not been sleeping very well either as she keeps waking up with jobs to do churning round in her head.

We were going to just have an ‘open’ weekend all weekend, but in the end we managed to organise the Visitors Centre just across the way (only a few steps really) for the Saturday evening. Gran knows and likes it there. It has a disabled loo too, which at 100 is important! I personally was quite keen to do this for three primary reasons:-

1) firstly and most importantly in my eyes it gives Her Next Door a few hours off, once she is there she can relax and let others pour drinks and sort out the food. She too can really enjoy the actual party.
2) if it does rain we have one large room where we can all gather and mingle.
3) it gives a focus to the celebrations; everyone getting ready, changed, expectant for the main event.

Initially Gran herself was not so keen on a large get together. She finds it difficult to hear what you are saying to her when in a large crowd, with lots of others talking in the background. But recently she has said that she is really looking forward to it now. There are some people coming that she has not seen in an awfully long time and very, very nearly all of her family will be there. Sixty two in total.  There is one very dear man who won’t be able to come, but I am sure Granddad is looking down on us. We miss him, Gran most of all.

Today and Saturday though will be two extra special days, remembered and treasured by us all.

Mid Life Crisis

It was my birthday yesterday.  I may have lived more years than I have left to live.  A sobering thought.

I need to let rip, otherwise I may be too old to do so.

I could buy a Ferrari, but I’m not really into cars. A car for me has always been about getting from A to B without breaking down.

I’ve considered a change of job, but I really can’t think of anything I want to do more. I don’t think I’d qualify as a wine taster with my indiscriminate taste.  Any way I like working for myself - I can give myself half days off and I can change my job description to suit my mood.

I could buy myself some heavy jewellery, but that really does remind me of medallion man and hairy chests from the 70s.  Not that I have a hairy chest, nor am I a man last time I looked; but it's all very ostentatious.  Not really me.

I’m pretty confident I could get a bit on the side, but I imagine after a few months it would be like having two partners.  Why would I inflict that on myself?

If I didn't have responsibilities I think I'd sell up, get a back pack and travel light for the rest of my life.  Can't take it with you after all.   Without the people I love around me though, I'd be very lost.

Perhaps I'll look more seriously into keeping chickens or bees.  Or do more gardening.  Not exactly letting rip though.  I'm going to go shopping on Saturday... let's see what I come back with.

Gran's rebelling...

Him and Her Next Door have gone away for a few days leaving us to Granny sit.

This is fine except Gran is going through a rebellious stage... "I am not getting dressed today, I feel dizzy when I try to..." glaring at me as if daring me to argue.  "I've put on my summer dressing gown for the daytime.  I'm quite decent."

Hmmm, one of Her Next Door 'rules' is that Gran should get dressed daily - except for her bath day, she is allowed a day off then. 

"And another thing, I don't want a new dress for my party." 

Blimey, let it all out Gran.

Is there a book on how to handle teenagers centenarians?

Hopefully Her Next Door will remain blissfully unaware of this outburst.  Nobody reads this do they?

Our garden in pictures

I love this time of year... (and wondering around the garden on a sunny day like today is the perfect antidote to politics).