Last weekend I went to one of my favourite places in the whole world: West Bay in Dorset.
Mama’s birthday weekend, featuring old friends and a murder. Lots of very silly costumes, lots of wine, lots of FOOD. You’ve heard all this before.
It was Phil’s first time, having lasted four years with me and therefore been judged ‘ready’. He humoured my MUST GET UP AT 7AM AND OUT IN THE MIST issues, and we walked for miles and miles along the glorious Dorset coastline. Oh, the sea.
Usually I write on these weekends but Phil was a nice distraction. We can’t be an emo poet all the time, can we?