Sun, sand, sea and ... smashed windscreen. Pseudo-Supermum got back from Eurocamp at Beg Meil, Brittany, just last night. We took the overnight ferry from Roscoff to Plymouth, then drove all the way up yesterday.
It was a great holiday - the weather was as good this year as it had been bad last. We took our time returning to Roscoff, stopping to look at the Cathedral in Quimper, and to eat crepes in Le Faout, then we let the boys play on the sand a couple of miles away from the ferry terminal - to wear off some energy.
Then I checked my mobile - ooops! a message from our neighbour to warn me that my windscreen had been smashed the weekend before. He'd kindly parked the car off-road in a neighbour's drive where it would be less obvious. I phoned Autoglass from Brittany, as the boys played happily oblivious on the sand beneath us.
I was lucky - someone obviously got on top of the car - the sunroof was depressed, so it's lucky that (a) it hadn't rained and (b) it went back to the correct position when I opened and closed the mechanism - but they hadn't smashed the sunroof, and although the windscreen had shattered, it hadn't actually broken. There was a depression where a large boot had obviously made contact, presumably on the way down from the sunroof. The Glasgow Ned is a mindless creature. "Feral youths", as someone coined the phrase in the papers a few weeks ago. At least my tax-disc was still there, or I'd have been a lot more inconvenienced. It took the edge off the holiday, though.
The boys made friends with two Lancashire lads the same ages as themselves, so they thoroughly enjoyed their holiday. Our families got on well, and hope to stay in touch.
From my point of view, NO research reading got done, but it was probably good for me to have a complete break.
Since 7 pm last night, I've done five loads of washing, ,most of which is now dry and folded but not yet put away. SuperSpouse irritated me by pointing out that I didn't actually do the washing - the machine did - and that at least it was better than using a tub with a paddle as his mother had done in the 'forties. As they say in Glasgow, "Aye, right." I was still the one that had to get it done. I retaliated by retorting that, by the same token, it was a good thing he didn't have to use an earth closet at the bottom of the garden whenever he needed the bathroom. Men - don't you love 'em?
Time to get the boys to bed. They won't do it if I don't supervise them!