Home and not so Dry

Had a lovely few days down in Cornwall.  It was amazingly our 27th wedding anniversary while we were there.  Not quite sure why I just wrote amazingly - was it because it's amazing we've actually reached this number without either of us destroying each other in the process.  Most people believe that Alan deserves some kind of sainthood because I truly am a bad-tempered, cup half full, person, whilst I believe that any extra blessings poured out from heaven should totally be headed my way based on my toleration of what can only be described as an obsessive compulsive football disorder.  Too old to play but he just didn't get the memo; so focused that dog walks and everything else are cut short so as to watch/listen/read about his other beloved.  Everton.  As I write Everton are on the tv, but hey, he's handsome, funny and all the football playing means he's fit and nothing like most 50 year olds, so who am I really to complain.  We were joined by Kai on the break away, which amused many that we would take him with us but doting mimi and poppy didn't care - Kai on the beach, rolling in the sand and waves even in mid October is too much fun to miss out on.

And we're back and I've finally waded through the ridiculous amounts of washing that a shut pink palace generates and ready to blog on.