Beach Day. Well, I say beach day. But it was actually a Bruton beach day. All 3 hours of it. We had to wait in on Monday morning for the electric and gas meter to be read - the usual 8 until 12 appointment when they always arrive at 5 minutes to 12. The weather was so nice in the afternoon that we took ourselves down to the beach.
Neither Louise or I are beach people. Or not beach people in the traditional sense. Our favourite beach activity is walking along it when it's a bit cold and wet, enjoying the peace and quiet. We don't like sand everywhere, we don't like being too hot, we can never find anywhere to put down our stuff so it stays clean and dry, the sun makes our eyes hurt when we're reading and there's usually too many people making too much noise and kicking too much sand and water around.
This means that by the time we actually arrive on the beach and get ourselves a place to sit and generally settle down we're practically ready to go home again. Molly, unlike us, is a normal beach type and just starts running around like a loon, sandcastles, water, paddling, swimming, the works.
So this was her day on the beach:
Whereas this, complete with coffee and comics to read, was mine:
Foel Farm. Like Hemblas Park on Monday but better and with more people.
Molly had a ball: calves and lambs to bottle feed, pigs and goats to coo over. And a giant inflatable to bounce up and down upon even during the couple of showers that we had - the wet just made it more slippery, which meant more falling over and more fun.