You know all those things that are small in doing but mount up when you've been busy - the bill paying, signing sons school diary, choosing which photos I want from the school, helping middle son fill out electoral forms - etc etc.
Electoral forms - yes that's when you know you're getting old, when your second oldest is almost old enough to vote. But everything is done!
I took furkid to the beach this morning for a nice relaxing walk to help prevent her sulking. It's meant to rain all week, it was meant to rain today - and it did, this afternoon. This morning it was sunny and beautiful, albeit windy at the beach.
No bother to us, because it meant the section of dog beach where we walk was totally empty. It's quite relaxing walking on the beach with crashing waves, the wind in your face and the sun on your face....and no-one in sight.
|This is where we walk - Port Noarlunga Beach|
|which leads to here - the mouth of the Onkaparinga River (Image Credit)|
Molly (yes furkid has a name which I don't refer to often enough here) was content to trot along beside me and then would have moments of craziness when she would tear along the sand picking up every piece of cuttlefish she could find.
Normally we take her in the water and she loves the water, just not the waves so much. Today it was a bit cool, so we settled for just feet in the water - hers and mine. It's roughly about a 2km walk to the river mouth and back to the carpark, by then she's sitting down and she's had enough. She's only a baby after all.
I'd like more Sundays in my week, unfortunately it's back to work tomorrow.
Everyone in our immediate group at work is on annual leave this week, the boss and I had extra days off over the Easter break so we're manning the fort this week which means plenty of peace and quiet to make some steady progress. Wednesday is a public holiday - so two days in the office, a day off and then another two days. Hopefully it makes the week go faster.
Hope you've had a relaxing weekend
It's the natural addiction: warmth on chilly nights, innocence on Sunday afternoons, the essence of hearth, home and blissful abandon ~ Patricia Linden