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Wednesday, April 7, 2004
Saturday 3rd April-A tired mother, aged 42, Hereford, England.
I wake up at 6.30, or rather I’m awoken by an excited daughter:
“Is it time to go yet?”
She trips into the room with a bag full of lego and weebles. She is like a time bomb waiting to explode and although I don’t need to get up for another hour I know that if I don’t get up in the next few minutes disaster will strike.
My other daughter is still asleep. I peer into her room and am only able to see a few tufts of her hair beneath the duvet decorated in rabbits.
An hour later and we are on the road to the coast. Tent pack clouds threatening rain, daughters strapped in the back singing songs about buffalos.
30 minutes later though and they are both asleep and they don’t awake until we arrive at the secluded Welsh Campsite. Excited daughter half falls out of the car grazing her knee and the clouds open. But it doesn’t matter because this a magic place with rock pools, and sand, and rocks to scramble up.
Posted by February 29th
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