A blog is most successful (I gather) when written regularly. So today I join a select collection of bloggers who write their apologies for having been absent from writing for awhile. But I have a good excuse. Honest. It wasn’t just laziness or even being too busy. In fact, I can blame everything on my parents.
They came to visit recently, for 3 weeks. And, left on Thursday. And… I miss them. You see, my parents are wonderful people. Hey, like most parents they can drive you crazy. And I have no doubt if ever interviewed (once I become a world famous blogger), they will say ‘Our daughter? Nice, but also a pain in the proverbial. She just won’t do as she is told. Still, we think we are proud of her.’
Anyway, it was an absolutely lovely visit. We didn’t plan anything ~ and I think that is the trick to a great holiday personally. We spent most of it talking, reading, talking some more, playing with the animals, catching up, e.g. talking, visiting local food markets, eating the results, and enjoying local wines (when in France…). They stayed with us for a few days, then took themselves off for a tour of the area for a few days and then returned for a further few days visit. Perfect. My Mum says, ‘people are like fish, after a few days they go off’. So, variation keeps the heart fond.
I am unlucky in that I do not get to see my parents often. We live on different continents, divided by thousands of kilometres/miles and 6 hours. One downside of starting a new life is you have to work your way up to having holidays away. I am beholden currently to them coming to see me, which I think is a good thing really. My parents are great travellers, though with age this is becoming less, but still I like that I can give them an excuse to get out, away from the computer and book clubs to speak another language and eat delicious food. (Well they live in the States, so there is no real comparison when it comes to taste ~ and I can say this through personal knowledge).
I am lucky in that I really like my parents. Not just love them. Sometimes love, at least I think with parents, is easier than like. But I like them. Always have. They are interesting, funny, quirky and never short of an opinion ~ which I don’t necessarily agree with, but then we do live continents apart ~ which also explains why we do a lot of talking. They are who they are, and they made me who I am. So… I can blame them for everything. Yeah, it’s their fault I miss them.