At the Seaside

Finally, we are having a wonderful summer. Lovely and warm, not too scorching hot, just right. We've been to the seaside a few times, which is a pebbles & rocks rather than golden sands affair.

We like to go a few miles down the coast, escaping the hoards of tourists & day trippers. It's all rugged and picturesque.







But there's a good reason all the photos feature the back of foxy's head. He is constantly on the go and I spend the entire time on my feet chasing after him. I will admit to flashes of envy towards the mums with children who stay close of their own accord. Not that I'd change him, but, well, you know.

It is a nice way to meet people. Folks tend to comment on his speed of travel and hair in equal measure. On our last excursion we met a delightful family because the father rescued foxy from a near-death rock scramble while I was shouting "NO!" and trying to run across the pebbles. They were watercolouring on the rocks and let foxy join in. I wish I had taken their picture. The dad suggested martial arts to channel foxy's energy. He might be on to something.