It has now come to my notice, for the third time only, that real people and not just my family, actually read what I have written! What a frightening thought.. and now my mind has gone completely blank so it will have to be a photo or two
This is Guadalest – in the mountains above Benidorm – it was a chilly day and not a lot of sun – unusually – because most of the time we have had lovely weather for our escape to the warmth of Spain.
I couldn’t resist putting this one on -looking from the lighthouse towards Altea. Something about the colour of the sea and the blue sky – how inspiring is that?
Now there’s a thought – Wordsworth used daffodils and look what he achieved…maybe it’ll be the sea for me – but not quite at this moment! It’ll come, perhaps, who knows? There must be another word for azure!
Here’s a sunset from the camper van door – another inspiring moment
Isn’t this a wonderful world? And the simple pleasures in life are often inspiring – watch this space…
The wonderful Millau Bridge.
Isn’t this a work of art? I’m afraid my photo taken through the camper van window does not do it justice – it is truly amazing – Well done Mr Foster – probably lord or sir at least by now.
“Life is a bowl of cherries. Some cherries are rotten while others are good; its your job to throw out the rotten ones and forget about them while you enjoy eating the ones that are good!
There are two kinds of people: those who choose to throw out the good cherries and wallow in all the rotten ones, and those who choose to throw out all the rotten ones and savour all the good ones.”
What does this mean? Think positively all the time? Is that savouring the good cherries?
Sorry but there are no photos to accompany this tale
I thought this might be something to write down…it is far worse than looking for my glasses and finding them on
a chain round my neck; or finding my purse in the fridge; this one smacks of real dementia – real and scary.p>
You see I thought it would come on like my mother’s did, stopping cooking and cleaning and then stopping washing herself and then she stopped reading and knitting and so I am constantly hoovering up, baking cakes and showering every morning and knitting – good grief every night I sit in front of the tv knitting – stuff people won’t wear, tea cosies people won’t use and even a very odd looking camel for a nativity scene…but I knit obviously fooling myself into thinking that I am keeping the home for the bemused and bewildered at bay…when you hear the long-winded tale of the weetabix keys you will realise that, unfortunately, I am not!
We were in the camper van on a campsite in Peniscola and somewhere between having given the dog a good play on the beach and having our tea the van keys disappeared.
OK, I can hear you say, it’s only 6 metres long and you got in with them so they are there somewhere and therefore easy enough to find…
Always retrace what you have done and then you will find them.
I pressed the key fob, tied the dog to the wing mirror, put the keys on the hook – ah that’s the bit I must have dreamt, and knelt down to get the Ramoska out of the cupboard – a very useful piece of equipment the Ramoska but that’s another story…
It was when my all suffering husband came to get the keys to turn on the gas that the great hunt began.
And what a search – every pocket, cupboard and bag was turned out, not once but up to three times – even the rubbish was tipped out on to the ground outside and painstakingly picked over piece by wretched piece.
All to no avail – the keys were nowhere to be found.
What on earth could I have done with them?
And it was with a sinking heart, even a large gin could not alleviate, that I went to bed that night.
In the morning, there, nestling in the bottom of the weetabix box was the bunch of keys…how on earth…?
I must have put them there ….
Best just to laugh and enjoy the retelling, best not to ask why? how?