The End of Summer

I think it's fair to say that summer is officially on the way out, which is a shame as it always seems to be when I'm happiest and I feel like I've spent most of it doing work for my MA.  However, I have also done other things...I've been to Portugal, I've been to Wales where the boy tour me on a tour of many many castles (my favourite was Pehrhyn), I've baked A LOT, drank copious amounts of red wine, I've done some writing for Fused, prepared their AW Fashion Guide, wrote a short story for Cellardoor's wonderful End of Summer Issue (p84), got my little sister prepared for high school and waved the boy off to live bloody miles away.  Oh and I've more or less finished my MA.  It's been a busy one.

Barmouth Beach

View from the Caravan

We may complain about British summers but even when it's pouring it down a 99 from the ice-cream man and chips on the beach front make me reminiscent of summers when I was younger.  As a young girl I spent many summers in a caravan/apartment/posh hotel depending on our finances at the time but to me it didn't matter where we were.  I once adopted a seagull who I called Sammy, I fed him every day whilst we were away with my aunties and cousins and every one.  I only realised this year whilst telling the boy that story that Sammy was probably multiple seagulls.  Naive I know, but it shows how much I believed in the magic of summer - as a tiny girl I had a pet seagull.  So don't give up on British summers - they may be shorter, come at strange times of the year and be largely interspersed by rain but they're our summers.  Make sure you make the most of them.

My mother and I, Newquay, aged 2.