Our beaches do not have civilised promenades for Sunday Best or Boy Racers.
They are not for posing on in our skimpies.
Our beaches are windy and wild. Any posing is done by people well wrapped up in long wetsuits, maybe with hats and gloves.
So who in their right mind washes their hair before going to visit the wind and the salt and the sand?
Ah, you noticed they key phrase…
A woman currently experiencing some challenges to her mental health. Who has either forgotten to bring the tablets-again– or has OD and taken them all at once. (Spurs Fan thinks this may the explanation for bouncy, singy car charades.)
So here we are. Cold and wrapped up on the beach. The hair will be in a dreadful state by the time we get back to the crumbly caravan on the hill, but in the meantime I’m proving the value of Herself’s refrain “Wash you hair and you’ll feel better.”
Isn’t it annoying when your mother is right?
(The similarities are incredible)