This is a very quick illegal post from the depths of a Devon farm... luckily enough we have lovely cousins near to the cottage who have a wifi connection and under the pretense of setting up the laptop for Mum to send some emails I thought I'd put together a quick post.
Not quite the trip we were planning, we ate something very dodgy at a restaurant on the way down and contracted food poisoning which put us under for two days... the spud didn't share in the veggieburger joy and so has been full of beans, not perhaps what one needs when one is ill but at least he was full of beans and not losing them from both ends...
Today has dawned sunny and warm and gastric-upset free and we are resting as much as possible and trying to contact our loved ones to let them know we are still alive and well - with no reliable phone signal here either we've been rather incommunicado. Well, we can get a reliable phone signal but you have to leave the cottage and go and stand by the cow pasture which when one is still in one's pajamas and running a fever is not the greatest option in the world.
Here we are though and today is lovely. We went to a local farmers market and I was suddenly catapaulted back to my childhood - nothing it seems has changed about Devon farmers markets in the last 30 years. The effect was exacerbated by the bookstall, filled with old Enid Blyton books, Paddington bear, Whiskey Galore and various moth-eaten old tomes which haven't seen the light of day for many a year... the sudden intrusion of the South Beach Diet alerted me to the fact that I am in fact over 40 and where is my son again?
Anyway, time to run so that Mum can send some emails and I can go and introduce the spud to the horses. He can reliably say the word 'Cow' now, something which is bound to be very useful up in London.