It's nice having a blank page to blog on. When you 'Create New Post,' this is what you're given: a big white space. Then you have to marry it up with your filled-up head and put the letters of your thoughts on it. In the right order.

So
Eth remmus yadiloh sah neeb etiuq drah tub yllufknath adsA sah dah ytnelp fo nig dna nongivuas cnalb no reffo!

Eht Dne

!ahwm

So after a disastrous first week, everything suddenly switched like a stick on the tide turn.

All gadgets were set aside and we embarked on a two-person drive to be as Enid Blyton as possible. The tandem approach worked well, jollied along not a little by the sticky weather.

Beach. Burgers. Barbecues. Burning. And that was day one.
Rinse. Repeat.

Hunter will not put clean pants on of a morning. I throw them at him and say 'clean pants' in a clipped, dictator tone. He still doesn't. But he likes me sussing out that he still has stinky pants on.

He's heading for an expensive divorce.