Our beach

When it is this empty, it really does feel like it is our beach. It stretches for about twice this distance behind where I am standing, but there were a handful of people there.

Glorious sunny day. Conor had been on a sleepover and was at football in the morning, and Mr B left for London at some ungodly hour. So we snoozed on and managed a quick walk along the beach before heading to Conor's house of sleepover for lunch with my friend L, her boys and super-gorgeous-broodiness-inducing-daughter. Although we talked a lot about getting ourselves stirred to go to the beach, we ended up sitting in the sun all afternoon in the garden instead. A fine afternoon it was too.

Then home to fling some food in the oven for friends coming over for a sort of book group reunion. The kids earned themselves many brownie points by putting themselves to bed, and I chatted the evening away, getting all caught up on local news and staying up until all the wine was gone with R, catching up with all her news.