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Oh, Cornwall.... you beauty!

Well... that was certainly a weekend that didn't deflate! Mr M makes no bones about the fact that he doesn't read my blog. It's not that he doesn't like it (although he wouldn't know if he does or not), it's more of the fact that he can't be bothered.. and I see his point. He knows exactly what's going on inside my head at any given moment, whether he wants to or not.. I make a point of him knowing, as, quite frankly, I think that's part of his job. I say this as a precursor to describing our weekend, as the title of this blog should really read 'Oh, Cornwall and Mr M... you are both beauties!' ... but it didn't have quite the same ring to it.



So. Thursday. We packed up a big rental van with the bare essentials for kitting out our rented house that will be home for the next 6 months. Oli drove the van down and I zipped ahead in the Mini with the dog, some cleaning products and a hoover. By the time night fell we had a bed, a sofa, a big bag of crisps and a clutch of beers. And we couldn't be happier. By Friday lunchtime we'd set up the dining table and pews around it, thrown a few pictures on the walls and felt we'd done enough to deserve an exploration into Mevagissey (always want to call it Megavissey!) for a proper Cornish pasty and chips.


I have to interject at this point that I am somewhat concerned that if this is the shape of our summer to come I may end up the size of walrus and will need to ensure adequate exercise and a sprinkling of vegetables in my diet to overcome being harpooned on the beach.



We arrived back to our rental where we settled in for another evening. Mr M suggested we have a fire pit which was a lovely idea. I showered and put on some music whilst Mr M disappeared off somewhere and as I had my back to the door, gently swaying to some 90's track, the door opened.. I turned around and nearly fell over! Unbeknown to me, Mr M had arranged for our very lovely friends, Doug and Viv, to come down and surprise me!


This is great for a number of reasons. Firstly, they are lovely. Secondly, we always have such a giggle with them. Thirdly, Vivienne does not pack light. This is a woman who always makes sure she has fizz or Rose wine to hand along with a plethora of nibbles such as olives, houmous, crisps, etc and can produce all of the above at a moments notice, wherever she is... and I mean, wherever. We could be up the side of Kilimanjaro and she'd rustle up a couple of chilled wine glasses and canapes when we stopped for a breather. Viv also reads this blog. From the moment they turned up to us being on the beach with a bottle of Champagne (and nibbles), was approximately ten minutes... God, I love that girl!



The weekend was fabulous. It was made even better by some fantastic weather. The sun shone, it was warm and we were sharing it with great mates. Portscatho was beautiful in the sunshine and on Saturday, when it was blowing a stiff Easterly, on shore breeze which made the beach a little too blustery, we shifted over to the estuary side and lay like lizards soaking up the sun at Percuil Boat Yard.


What a weekend. Firepits, friends, sunshine, sea, Champagne and Cornwall.


I needed Cornwall to reassure me that, it too, has beautiful mornings and the promise of things to come and it certainly did that.. in droves. Mr M and I kept telling each other all weekend "Can you believe it! We live here!!" Neither of us could get our heads around it. I still can't. We are going to live in Cornwall... it seems outrageous and unlikely and fool hardy. I don't seem to be able to believe it even though I know it's true. I keep thinking something is going happen that will mean we will continue to live in Hampshire and we'll put this all down to an idea that didn't quite materialise. This was reinforced on Sunday when we had to pack up and head back to Hampshire and here we are. I'm back at work and the house, apart from the spare room bed, a sofa and a couple of other things, looks exactly the same as it has done for the last eight years and although the removal people are booked for a week on Wednesday, I still can't believe we are going. It's the most bizarre feeling.


Ten days. That's what we have left. Ten days. Then we will be on the longest long weekend away ever.. I think that's what it's going to feel like. Just one big holiday. I'm just not sure exactly when it's all going to sink in.


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