We’ve been spending a fair bit of time in the caravan recently (directions: drive to the middle of nowhere, turn left and up the hill- you’ll find us) which has led to a number of significant discoveries.
- Donegal is hillier than I thought. Christy wasn’t just making it up.
- A hedge can be a thing of beauty, not just a softening of the edges. Where a fence may be too blunt an instrument, a planting of privet marks the terrain in an anonymous fashion. There is nothing anonymous, blunt or boring about these riots of fuchsia. A wonder in the wild.
- Less a discovery than a dilemma. Bloggy buddies of a lifestyle/ home maker bent, I need your help. I don’t go to the caravan to be cleaning- there are beaches to visit and hedges to photograph. However, there is grub. A bit too much, even for my slothful ways. Where is the line between ‘casual, carefree, artistically sand-splattered’ and ‘biohazard’? My natural inclination is towards sitting outside with a book, but if I look round me indoors I see signs of a previously unloved caravan. Would it help if I took off my glasses?