Showing posts with label caswell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label caswell. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

George is a wimp

When we take a path unfamiliar to George he likes to let me go first. He did so today and as I was walking I said, 'You don't know, George, the monsters could be watching us and working out that you're the soft touch and they'll pick you off from the back.'

As I said that I turned around to see him and, yikes! He'd disappeared!

Then he came trotting from the corner. Phew!

* * * * * * * * *

On Saturday I invited the Barham Babes to come to Caswell cafe in the evening for a ukelele gig. 'What time?' they wanted to know.
'I don't know. We'll just turn up.'

Big mistake. We turned up and the cafe was closed and shuttered.

So change of plan. We drove to Langland, had a little walk around the cliffs and then enjoyed coffee/hot chocolate/tea and cake in the cafe there.

Ffion had done something ridiculous like run a marathon earlier in the day so grumbled when I made them keep walking until we reached a suitable point to take photos. (But she's smiling and that's an achievement.)

Two women walking by stopped and one said, 'Would you like us to take a photo of you all together?'
'Oh yes, please.'
I gave her the camera, which she then handed to her friend saying, 'You're better at taking photos than I am.'
We posed and the friend took our photo. Then she said, 'I'll take another one to be sure.'

So it's very odd that, on checking when I got home, there were no photos on the camera of the three of us. It's not that they were blurry or she'd cut off our heads: they just weren't there.

But the custard slice was very nice.


Sunday, March 09, 2008

Cliff walk to Caswell

The first violets of the year. It's always a special time for me spotting the first violets peeking their heads up. There were loads of people round the cliffs this morning (because when we set off the sun was shining - by the time we returned it was hail-stoning) but I wonder how many of them noticed these tiny little beauties. Sunday morning isn't really a good time to walk the cliffs: they tend to be full of Sunday walkers, surly, "out for the fresh air and we're going to enjoy it if it kills us" walkers. George has the beach to himself.
xx

Monday, March 12, 2007

Xploring the rocks

Alun and I took xplore (older 'sunday school') to Caswell this morning. We figured that Jesus spent lots of time on the beach, and if it was good enough for Jesus it was good enough for us.