Happiness is always a coincidence

Unbelievable.

a) It is a warm sunny day. 25 C (or 77 F for centigrade challenged).

b) No wind.

c) It's school holidays.

d) I took today as a holiday!!

Milla and I went to the beach.

Blanket, water, strawberries, crispy bat wings, sweet cherries, Ploughman's sandwich, bread sticks, Cadbury creme egg, board shorts, vests, Crocs, sunglasses, Harry Potter, Daily Mail. No sunscreen, in my opinion we are too far North and need all exposure to sun-light we can get, so as not to cause rickets.

I still cannot get over the fact that the sun was shining and we actually managed to get there, spend 4 hours there, it did not rain, I did not have to leave Milla at childminder's and be stuck in the office.

The trick with Shields beach is to get there early-ish. Those locals that one would want to avoid emerge after noon, just as the wind starts to pick up, and the tide comes in after 2 pm, compressing population. I cannot cope successfully with wind, tide and juvenile delinquency all in one go, but  we've had a lovely 3 hours paddling in clear water that was actually above freezing, Milla building sandcastle mill ('D'you geddit Mam - mill - Milla?'), and we finished off with some chips.

A day off doesn't get better than this. I know I need to appreciate every moment, not just the good ones, but the goods ones make me happy.

Place That Makes Me Feel Content

Reighton Gap beach. No amusements arcade, no fairground, no ice-cream kiosks. Just walk and walk for miles, looking for pebbles with holes made by sea creatures.

A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen

Squinting into the low sun of an August afternoon, I felt like someone joining a secret society — one I’d really wanted to belong to. As a child I had tried to ride a bike, but I’ve outgrown my first bike pretty fast (it was pink with ‘Bunny’ written on it’s frame and had stabilizers), and I’ve never had another one. That was more than 30 (or 35?) years ago yet here I was, at last, setting foot to pedal in a glorious natural setting of our back lane and getting a bruise on my shin to prove it.

Why now? I don’t think I know. I’ve resisted my husband’s encouragement long enough. Then one day he lowered the seat on one of his bikes for me to sit a bit more upright, and I got on it. And off I went, wobbling along, trying to find my balance and a more or less comfortable position on the saddle.

There is a path behind our terraces of pit houses, lovely and green in summer months, just take no notice of piles of rubbish disposed by council estate inhabitants and you could be in a countryside.

I went along it, air rushing in my face, silly grin, white knuckles grip on the handles. Alone. Happy. The sun was bright and all was right – endorphines kicked in. The world was mine.

For an hour, I’ve had a most wonderful holiday.