I was planning on sleeping in yesterday morning and had sent Lee down for a cup of tea. Instead, he came back with news that they were going up to Cushendun to walk the dogs on the beach. I flew out of bed, dressed and was given one of Kerri's hats to hide my bad hair and we drove up to the coast...Lee, me, his ma and pa and Benny and Tina. It was cold and bright and beautiful and helped to remind you that you're alive. In case you'd forgotten. Ice still covered parts of the sand and rocks and after a goodly walk we headed back to the car park where Lee's dad was painting the beach from the back of the car. We drove back listening and singing to Hermans Hermits ('cos they rock like that) and detoured past the old school and some more family.
So much family.
We ended the day with family. Lee's brother, his wife and her family. And the trauma of realizing they had such strong accents I couldn't make out a word. Nothing.
Not even a key word thrown in to give me a clue.