More than one use for a poo bag

I didn't go out with the intention of blackberrying but they were so big and fat and juicy I couldn't resist. So I had to. And fortunately I had a spare poo bag with me. The fruits of my labour are now in the freezer and I feel like a proper housewife.

* * * * * * * * *
So, what's this being on retreat like? I hear you ask.

It's like doing everything I normally do plus writing. The problems are a) Husband has had man flu; and more significantly b) I cannot resist the lure of my grandchildren.

Sean, from Zac's, goes on a retreat every now and again - oh exciting news I will tell you later - but he goes to a remote cottage in the Brecon Beacons with no internet and no phone signal. And no people. I shall have to rethink my plan next time.

That exciting news: Sean has a contract with a big publisher to publish his book, the story of his life and ministry with bikers and Zac's. He just has to finish it first, hence the retreats.

On my retreat day today I have taken GrandDaughter2 to singing, played with GrandSon4, walked George, blackberried, rewritten the article I wrote yesterday for The Bay following my close encounter with a lifeboat, and half-cooked dinner - Husband was up to helping with the other half.

Ah, well, tomorrow, as Scarlett said, is another day.