Seaside

 Yesterday, we had a trip to Lancaster to visit a stone mason. Don’t ask. And afterwards, as we were near to the seaside, well, it would have been rude not to take Nell the Poo for a run on the beach, wouldn’t it? 

It was chuffin’ cold on that there beach. We were in Morecambe which is on the north-west coast of England and the wind was gusting across the bay just to remind us that although we’d just had a few days of lovely warm and sunny weather and we are in official meteorological Spring, it is still another three weeks  until the Spring Equinox and we mustn’t be getting ahead of ourselves on the ‘Hurrah, it’s Springtime!’ front. Anyway, we fortified ourselves first with a warm up in the sea front café - cup of tea and an Eccles cake for me, a cappuccino and pain au chocolat for Lord M. - and then we set forth onto the beach. 

Luckily, the tide was out so there was plenty of sand available for running. Here is Nell being thoroughly unconvinced by Lord M of the fun and larks that could be had by racing with the waves…

She wasn’t having it, oh no. She much preferred the sandy part of the beach, well away from the threat of the waves. 

You can see the Lake District across Morecambe bay. It’s quite a view…

I ran around with Nell, and I collected some shells, which is something I enjoyed doing as a child on Sunday seaside visits. We lived about an hour from the coast, so family seaside trips were fairly frequent, but I think I’ve been to the seaside only once since we’ve lived in Shropshire. 

And that was it, really. We pootled around for a while, had a bit of lunch, and then came home.