Happy New Year

New year's day was rather a quiet affair. It would seem that despite my best efforts, I did manage to quaff a fair few beers and ended up with one of those nasty thick headaches that persists all day long and no amount of paracetamol will shift. Everyone else went to the beach leaving me to stew in my own misery. Fair enough. I did make it down to the beach a little later on, but judged it wise to avoid too much exertion.

On Saturday, after a decent night's kip I was feeling much better. Sam took the girls to the cinema to watch the presumably horrendous sequel to that annoying chipmunk move. I did a bit more exam swotting, making the most of the welcome silence. I dropped Imogen at her friend's house for an afternoon doing whatever girls do. Just for a change went off to the beach, this time equipped with body board and wet suit. In fact it was one of those rare occasions when Rhiannon chose to grace us with her pasty white presence. Not only that, but she nicked Imogen's body board and spent a considerable time in the water trying to catch a few waves. Despite my larger board, my technique seems to have vanished and Di was making a far better job of it than me. Sam wandered home with Phoebe, while Freya was buried in the sand by the boys next door who arrived on the beach at around the same time we did. They'd made a good job of it, too, as we actually had to dig her out. No amount of arm stretching was going to prise her loose. On our return home, feeling a bit peckish, it was rather a pleasant surprise to find that Sam had been to New World and scored a couple of roast chickens and put some chips in the oven.