Getting Back To Normal

She's only just speaking

I'm feeling more myself today. A busy two hour house clean at 6 am this morning followed by a snooze, food  Preparation, flower collection and a weigh in (surprisingly, I've not put on any weight since last fat club ! ) and I've been able to pull myself up by the bra straps and now can face the world again without sunny Sitges, great waiter service and tropical sun!
The home family is almost back up to strength, I collect the Welsh terriers this afternoon whereas Winnie and George were picked up last night from the  Greta and my sister respectively.
Winnie had been spoilt rotten and was wearing a new glitter collar when I arrived and has been suitably "cool" with me ever since she got home which is typical of bulldogs.
George on the other hand was waiting at the door for us to take him home even though my sister has pampered him like a mini celeb...... He's a real home bird!
Albert has been incredibly clingy after his week alone in the cottage, and his constant head rubbing and uncharacteristic purring has felt somewhat over-the-top given that our usual welcome has always been an occasional arse rub into the face when he is in the mood!


Hola


I wanted to write a few words, just a few today..
I'm sad that we are returning home tomorrow.
Yesterday, in between reading just four pages of my novel.....
I spent an entertaining three quarters of an hour watching a rather large lady in a chintz bathing costume eat an entire kilo of grapes.
She spat the pips out like a real pro

Fuck 'em

Fuck brexit, and terrorism.
Sod  natural and man made disasters -well just for a while.....
Bollocks to May's stupidity and Corbin's lack of statesmanship
And Arseholes to bad weather, internet trolls and Trump's dickhead Presidency

I had whisky cake last night at my sister's birthday supper.
We laughed and gossiped and drank beer.
We remembered old times and talked about new ones
And we forgot the ills of the world 

Beach

The over painted cherubs outside our balcony

Beach life , just like real life has its etiquettes and rituals , trials and tribulations.
I am a watcher of people on the beach.
They are far more interesting than a cheap novel.
The Prof and I are ensconced under our usual canopy. To our right are another gay couple. One older and suffering ill health, the other younger and fitter. I noticed that the younger man removed the trainers and socks of the elder when they arrived today.
In front of us is a man with his mother.
They rarely speak. She reads. He eyes up the passing talent.
Yesterday five statuesque german girls with exactly the same figures but different faces sat nearby preening themselves all day. I was exhausted watching them. They have not turned up today, as yet.
To our right is an arty looking French family of five sat quietly brooding under their canopy.
Not one has smiled all day.
They had melon for lunch.
The beach hawkers filled the gaps by flashing their beach throws at anyone that vaguely looked interested, like Peacocks fluttering their tails at sitting peahens.They are mostly poor North Africans who look over dressed in the sun.
The hours pass, and we all, I am sure,  feel more and more relaxed as the magnificent Sitges Church chimes away the hours throughout the day.


Postcard


Sitges has lost none of it's charm.
The little town by the sea is still dominated by the Church which overlooks the beach like a protective mother duck over her ducklings
I'm feeling rested this morning if not a little constipated so am off for a power walk and a sit on the loo with a book
The Prof has a video conference to sort but the wifi is variable
The holiday progresses!