At the weekend, I had every intention on making a good start on the packing. We’ve not done any yet, so I resolved to try and do one thing every day, fill a box, empty a drawer, that kind of thing. But on Friday, just before he went off to work, the poet snapped his phone case shut and said, ‘Right, we’re booked in for 2 nights!’
Eh? Booked in where?
He’d only gone and booked us into a camp site in Scarborough for 2 nights, 2 nights so we could leave whatever time we wanted on Sunday rather than before 12 noon.
Wow. That was a lovely surprise. Especially as I only had 9 pages left of that editing job to finish. But it did mean a bit of running around to make sure we didn’t forget to take anything. But he looked after all of that while I reached a good place to leave everything. And the next morning, we were off.
Saturday
We got to the site at around 1:30pm. It took us less than 2 hours to get there, and the dog had been great right up until 30 minutes towards the end of the journey when he decided he wanted out. We parked up and I gave him a bit of a walk, but he didn’t settle again. And when we reached the site he made so much noise while the site staff told us everything they have to tell us that I did think they might tell us to turn around and go back! He was so excited.
But he did settle down again. He didn’t like his long lead fastened to a ground spike very much as he’s used to just running around a large garden to his heart’s content. And he actually preferred to sit inside the van with us.
Once we were all pitched up and we’d had something to eat, we headed off on a walk to the cliff top. From here we could join the Cleveland Way for a bit and either go into Scarborough (2 miles away) or into Whitby (15 miles away). Instead, we chose to wander along the cliff top for a short while before turning around and heading back again.
It was cool but sunny with a light breeze and more than once the poet wished he’d listened to me and taken at least a fleecy top with us. But it wasn’t freezing and it wasn’t raining, so he managed with just a hoody over his t-shirt, whereas I was wearing a sweatshirt as well beneath my hoody.
Alfie didn’t care. Alfie was having the time of his life, sniffing where thousands and thousands of dogs and other animals and birds had left their scent, laughing his head off. (He’s such a smiler.)
Back at the van, we had bacon sandwiches for our tea. The poet tuned in the television and we watched the first of the Britain’s Got Talent Semi Finals followed by Enemy of the State, but that was too long to stay up for.
We settled down for the night, expecting the dog to keep us awake for most of it, but he was so shattered he slept all the way through until about 7:30am the next morning, when the poet got up and took him for a walk.
Sunday
We had toast and marmalade for breakfast (regular breakfast, as we didn’t know where we’d be at noon). And we packed up and drove into Scarborough.
We parked up and walked down to the promenade and onto and along the beach. We said hello to a lot of dogs, who are still allowed on the beach until May, and a lot of people. Scarborough was very busy and it was getting busier. We caught the tram lift back up to the top of the town and headed back to the van, where we had sandwiches and cake for our dinner before heading home.
It was almost 4pm by the time we left the van at the lockup, but we’d had a lovely short break in the sunshine, breathing in the sea air, and we were shattered! Even the dog, who spent the rest of the day mostly asleep and he slept all the way through the night again.
We hadn’t done any shopping, so we grabbed a tin of red salmon from the campervan stash and the poet rustled up a salad with what was left in the fridge at home. There was one portion left each of the apple and blackberry crumble I made last week, so we had that with cream on that we hadn’t used at the van.
Monday
The shopping would have to be done on Monday at the end of the working day. Before he went off to work, the poet armed himself with a very short shopping list, stewing steak and sausages from the butcher and bird seed from the home bargains shop, which he could pick up on his way home. The rest of the shopping could be done later.
The day started for me with my reading hour and my housework hour. I put a washload through, fed and watered the birds, watered one of the garden pots (the one with the potatoes in), hung out the washing and put another load through, and emptied the dishwasher.
My next hour should have been republishing Careful What You Wish For, Wordsworth Short #6, but I ended up faffing, sharing Monday’s blog post where I couldn’t schedule it, sharing the premium story that went live on Medium while we were away, starting today’s blog post, and so on. I’d already scheduled yesterday’s blog post on Friday, so that was one job less for me to worry about.
It was still sunny, and the dog was content to sit or lie down on the dining room step with the patio door open, sunbathing or just sniffing the air. When he got a bit bored, he went and got a toy, or a seed tray, and took it for a run around the garden. I had my midday breakfast, and I hung out the second wash load I’d put through.
I started to go through the client work to see which one should be next, and I noticed that one of them was due for publication in May…and I hadn’t done the proofreading consolidation yet. Another author has been reminding us about his book for a few months, and that one’s due out in July. So I sent an email to the client asking which one she would like me to do first.
When the poet called to say he was on the way home (via the butcher), I realised I hadn’t taken the dog for a walk, and by now he was on the armchair in the office, good as gold, having a nap. I quickly got him ready to go out and realised we’d left his collar in the van, in an overhead locker. We usually have him on a harness, but the law states that a dog in public must be wearing a collar with ID. We could just as easily put his ID on the harness, but the law says…I had to take him for a quick walk around the block sans collar and sans ID. Hopefully no one reported us.
By the time we got back, the client had replied with a request to do the May publication one next and she’d try her best to get it all done in time. So I opened up the pdf and off I went, taking me right up to close of play and end of business for the day.
Next time, we’ll catch up on Tuesday and Wednesday. It won’t be tomorrow, though, or Friday, as that’s month end and new month posts. Gosh, it might be a long post next Monday!
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Sounds like a lovely weekend. And Alfie had so much fun! Lots of new experiences for him.
It was a nice break, but really something we ought to do more often. I mean, we have the campervan and I can still work if necessary.
Alfie was exhausted after it all!