Holidays, Mum and stuff.....

Our much postponed holiday was fabulous. Beara Farm stables are on a remote, working farm so the traffic consisted on a parade of ducks across the farmyard, two cats who stalked by superciliously, in front of Lainy's Window Seat, the odd tractor and a few of the farm dogs.

We wanted to get away from everywhere and this was the perfect spot. In the mornings we took Lainy for a walk down the lane, across a field and into some woods where she chased a deer, rabbits and other unspecified animals, and came back panting happily. We would then wander back, have a coffee and a read. After brunch we would head off to explore in the afternoon. Knightshayes (National Trust) had stunning parklands and a very good cafe, we had to do some shopping so Lidls in Barnstaple provided that, and a walk round a community woodland there, and on our last day, which was the day mum was cremated, we went to Heddon Valley on Exmoor which I absolutely fell in love with.

It was a mix of Dartmoor and Cornwall - my favourite places - with huge, scree covered hills on either side, leading to a secret beach and an old lime kiln at the bottom. I would love to explore Exmoor so that's something to look forward to.

I had one night at home then went on to see The Fella, who was going to join us for a few days in Devon but for various reasons was unable to, so it was good to catch up with him, and do a Flapjack Walk. A stall near Predannack sells the best flapjacks I've ever tasted, so whenever we go there we get a packet which never lasts long. However, having accused him of eating most of them, it appears half the packet fell behind the biscuit tin.....(I would say here that while he is happy for me to eat the lion's share, he would never scoff them behind my back. Well, not all of them...)

I think of Mum a lot. Not in desperately sad ways but more frustration - I was dying to tell her about our trip to Knightshayes which she would have loved. The farm which would have made her laugh. Exmoor, which I knw she also loved. The Salley Vickers book that I bought in Eggesford Church - both of which she would have loved. On Sunday evenings I can no longer ring her (she particularly liked a chat on Sunday nights) and I had a terrible pang while we were watching TV last Sunday. So many things to tell her, and while I find it deeply difficult that I can't speak to her, I have a strong sense that she is near us still. Long may that continue.