Greetings from Sardinia

Hello! Wish you were here and all that. No really, I do. 10 days in the resort from hell has got me bouncing off the walls. The weather has been mixed, the room shabby and don't get me started on the service - but I don't want to dwell on all that stuff. Husband was grumpy by day 2. Thank god the cocktails were good and he had a gripping novel to get stuck into or there could have been bloodshed. No more last minute travel for us! It will be a military planned affair - ticking all the needed boxes... Husband aint good without a city to meander through and a temple/fancy restaurant/old building or two to visit. Me - stick me on a beach with a cosmo and I'm as happy as a jaybird.

But when I get back to Blighty tomorrow, rather than bitch about the dreadful resort (Chia Laguna if you want to know) I'll remember the little wonderful things: Sproglets's face as the sea whooshed over his tanned little feet - how he danced away with squeals of delight as if a monster were chasing him; him struggling into his yellow rubber wings and frolicking in the pool insisting he was 'swimming'. How every evening he asked where was the lizard that seemed to live in the air conditioning unit in his room. How handsome Husband looks with a tan - one that he gets by merely glancing at sun. Me - I have a wonderful Irish tan after hours out there - blotchy and freckled on pure white skin. Nice.

I'll think about how we played games soaking each other and laughed like drains. How Sproglet slept in his Father's arms while a massive thunderstorm raged and rain poured in buckets into the one great restaurant we found two nights ago. How I shoved a lamp out of the path of the torrent of rain and the next day a breakfast a man called me 'heroic' - when actually I was just plain stupid.

I'll think about Sproglet making chums and then asking for them long after they departed. How his feet are stripey from the sun only hitting the spaces between his sandals. How I mulled over my book with a corona on our balcony and watched the sun set as a million birds tweeted nearby. I'll hear Sproglet singing 'chichy wah wah wah' in his sweet tone deaf voice captivated by the kids' entertainment dancers. The mountain of watermelon I chomped through at every meal and my amazing lobster pasta. The cute train that ferried us to the golden beach and the size of the waves on our last day, that caused the lifeguards to go surfing.

When I think about all these little things on a dreary night in October, I'm sure I'll find myself missing here and wishing I was back. Must go - I have a case to pack with salty clothes...