Since man’s first slip [or was it woman’s?], the earth lost its heart. [but not its ‘h’] Lost its grip. Fell out of love with its inhabitants. Decided to get its own back. Make them work for a life worth living. Chores becoming the disorder of the days. Nothing cosher any more.
We go in search of a washing machine. Almost three weeks of socks and pants piling up – and the rest. Hot and sunny our order of the day. We (Mrs S) need to make the most of it. Load up and let technology do what it does. Lighten our load. I ready the lines. Then we let them hang.
It’s not what we want to do though. Hang about. So we edge out. Cross the boundary from camp and onto Potamos beach. A cricket ball’s throw away. Come June it’s going to be busy here. Thousands of loungers shipped in by the lorry load. Patient piles pepper the line of bars and eateries. Soon to get peppered themselves.
Competition for the best return is evident. Each establishment’s team of young men busy. They hammer, dig, re-arrange, push, create, paint, plant, water. A perfect holiday ambiance their goal. All create a slightly different twist on the same.
We take time out. Become a couple of loungers on loungers. Beach towels, cozzies & sun-cream given their first airing. Nothing to do but be. It’s heaven. We’re alone. Feel like that first couple. Before the first bite.
Wey hey looks like your both having a great time.
Love Maureen Jane and Karen xxx
Well, that’s a nice surprise!! We are thanks, especially now the weather has upped the anti.xx