normal service resumes..............whatever that may be!

Hello, hello and hello again...............I'm back! School hols are over and although they were mostly blissful (and now and then b****y hard work) it is nice to get the house back to myself and I must admit to a small sigh of contentment when I came back to an empty house, once again the radio and I can be on speaking terms (please tell me the rest of you converse with your radios), and the once disgustingly filthy house has now been thoroughly de-loused and cleansed.

So...................summer - how was it for you? Most of you have been a lot less slack on the blogging front than me so I have managed to catch up with a lot of the news out there. As usual the weather here in Blighty did not really do us proud, despite the forecasts. We did however manage quite a few trips to the beach on our hols.

Right at the beginning of the hols we travelled up to the east coast of Scotland to stay at one of the Featherdown Farm campsites. What a place, from the setting within yards of a totally secluded beach, to the camp shop in an old boat, to the bread oven, it was a truly magical place. We had a fantastic time here, even my 16 year old stepdaughter loved it, despite the lack of msn and facebook. Miraculous what a couple of days away from real life can do for you.

Within a few feet from this fab tent was the most gorgeous beach which most of the time we had completely to ourselves, ideal for fishing, skidding down the dunes, kite flying and enjoying a cup of tea at the water's edge in complete solitude...................perfection.

This was a quiet holiday, plenty of time for being together, mastering stews cooked in the bread oven, games of scrabble and gazing across endless fields, new crochet project in hand and cup of tea never too far away................Harbours were visited (bit harbour obsessed, Ian and I), seals were fed, crab sandwiches munched, sweet shops raided, what more could you want?

I can't begin to describe to you just how cosy these tents are, stove and gas lamps lit, the sound of crackling logs and little else, very luxurious camping indeed. But before you start thinking that we've gone soft and can't handle the real camping experience any longer let me tell you that we did, in all its glory, at the end of the hols.

Once again we went back to one of our favourite haunts in Wales. The opposite extreme to Featherdown, portacabins for a loo, a long walk to the kitchen sink and some of the highest winds ever, but to us it's one of the best places ever.

The views are magical, the sun sets over the sea, dolphins swim in the bay, and again it's a quiet campsite (getting the impression I'm an antisocial so and so yet). The owner, Gordon, keeps the numbers down so you always have an unrestricted view of the sea. It really is a fabulous place, and this year the sun shone on us for most of the time although, being British, we were of course prepared for ALL weathers. The kidlets were shoe-horned into the car to accommodate swimsuits, fleeces, thermals, flip flops, sun hats, rain coats, wellies and of course the new hand made vintage curtain windbreak (bit floppy, very hand made looking, but does the job).

Of course, the crochet project came along too. Kit decided she wanted to learn, so latching on to a vague interest I patiently (not one of my greatest attributes) tried to show her. Willing she may have been but crochet is not an easy skill for a five year old to master. Luckily she was thrilled with her long chain and now wants to help with the blanket, although I'm not sure either she or I are quite ready for treble stitches just yet, I only have so much patience to share out.

Meanwhile big bro' managed to evade the camera yet again, leading to concerns that there will be a huge chunk of his life missing in our family journals, that is if we did actually have family journals that is, not just cds full of old photos.

The beaches in Wales are spectacular, less busy than elsewhere in the UK but just as lovely. Windbreaks, waves and wetsuits galore, lots of sandcastles, gritty cups of tea and ice creams, trying to read a newspaper in gale force winds, looking in estate agents and imagining a different life, a very typical British beach holiday.............fabulous!

Each evening followed the same pattern, tired children in bed, wine poured, crochet out and watch the sun going down...............bliss.

See you all soon..................