Psatha

Another Easter, another trip to the beach house. At this point, regular readers of this blog are probably thinking, "Not Psatha again..." and yet, here we are.

The kids are getting older, which means they can finally entertain themselves for more than seven consecutive minutes. This has unlocked a whole new level of holiday enjoyment with a hammock and a cold beer.

The monkey bars, swings, climbing accessories, and various gymnastic contraptions we keep adding to the garden have finally paid off. What started as a beach house is slowly evolving into a small activity centre. I’m expecting planning permission issues any day now.

As always, Easter means a lamb on the spit. I’ll spare you the close-up photos as I’ve already lost too many vegetarian friends over the years. Instead, you'll get the traditional BBQ pictures and some photos of my latest obsession: baking focaccia.

Because apparently, middle age arrives when you stop taking pictures of yourself and start taking pictures of bread.