A Welsh Wednesday

I keep sleeping in! This is unheard of...and makes me think of Chuckles, who has been, for the last 15 months of my life, my morning alarm clock. By the time I was up, Granny, Pappy, Becca and L-man were off to the barn to paint and plaster. Paul and I, still feeling a bit jetlagged, decided to hike up one of Beddgelert's paths. We found one with a pretty steep pitch, and so, chanelling the spirit of Sir Edmund Hilary (whose hiking club was in these parts), we climbed up to some beautiful views of the lush green valley of Snowdownia.

After lunch, Uncle Joseph and Aunt Barbie arrived, so we visited with them, admired photos of their adorable new grandchildren, then headed back to the campsite, since it was hot and L-man was set on kayaking on the lake. Instead of boating, I offered to help out in the barn. So on with the grubby clothes so I could move heavy bricks for a while. Heavy. Sweaty. Work. But the reward was a dip in the lake, which was divine.

Refreshed, we headed home for happy hour and a supper of roast chicken and Granny potatoes with Barbie and Joe. I still tend to stay up late here, and I am now engrossed in Twilight.
Good night!