The memories of a 3 week UK holiday are like a pastiche of mini pixels in our minds - soon to be overlaid with the current and continuous pixellation. On our first morning in Norfolk I heard a little: 'Wow' from the Lozenge's room and peeped in to see the dwarves gazing at the rain.
'What's this?' the Lozenge asked when I handed him a raincoat later that day.
We travelled far and wide, dancing through forests of sights, sounds and experiences; tripping through other peoples' lives and houses with bulging bags and great gratitude: seal spotting, shingle beaches, naked swimming in the sea, pig feeding, hay bale jumping, tumbling down grassy slopes, jeep riding, green upon green both south and north and zone upon zone of no mobile signal. Vegetable picking, rowing in boats and damp barbecues. Brown earthy hands and glistening, grassy Crocs. Godfathers and mothers, aunties and uncles senoir and junior, cousins and friends.
A small amount of politics and banner placing for an issue about which we all care deeply.
Our last evening, I bathed the dwarves and we listened to Mum playing Bach downstairs. Meanwhile a rainbow framed itself neatly in the window, spreading from the green hill towards the tall, elderly trees behind the pond.
A change is as good as a rest. And next year I will pack my vest.
'What's this?' the Lozenge asked when I handed him a raincoat later that day.
We travelled far and wide, dancing through forests of sights, sounds and experiences; tripping through other peoples' lives and houses with bulging bags and great gratitude: seal spotting, shingle beaches, naked swimming in the sea, pig feeding, hay bale jumping, tumbling down grassy slopes, jeep riding, green upon green both south and north and zone upon zone of no mobile signal. Vegetable picking, rowing in boats and damp barbecues. Brown earthy hands and glistening, grassy Crocs. Godfathers and mothers, aunties and uncles senoir and junior, cousins and friends.
A small amount of politics and banner placing for an issue about which we all care deeply.
Our last evening, I bathed the dwarves and we listened to Mum playing Bach downstairs. Meanwhile a rainbow framed itself neatly in the window, spreading from the green hill towards the tall, elderly trees behind the pond.
A change is as good as a rest. And next year I will pack my vest.
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