There is nowhere more beautiful than home.
I am obviously a little biased in my thinking, but as I run along the back road over the rolling hills behind our house, I am always struck with how beautiful the view is. Or when I turn the corner just by the shops and the loch opens up in front of me, I think, why was it do hard to get out the door this morning in my trainers, look at this!
The mornings and the nights are generally the best time of day for clear skies and little rain. At night the sky is ever changing in colour, purples to pink, delighting those shepherds.
We don't often see clouds in Kuwait. The sky is just awash of yellowed grey. Grainy and hazy. It's hard to describe in words, I doubt many poets have tried.
I've had a quiet couple of days at home, doing those jobs that need doing; the dentist, the hygienist, the hairdresser (you would think I was off to the DRC rather than the sandpit), the last minute round of phone calls and final visits to my grandparents. I'm not a fan of this bit of the holidays. Knowing it is over so very soon. The bit where you start to actually think about the upcoming school year and think about all the things you could have/should have (nahhhhh, it's my holidays) done, the reading on mentoring NQTs or new BUILD initiatives (!!!). Oh well, too late anyway, try not to think about it. The bit when you realise that soon my time is not my own again.
I had a wee mini-break to Wales, nicely timed to get the most out of these last days. I stayed with lovely friends (my Lewa running buddy and her family)that I worked with in Nairobi. We didn't stop talking for two days as we connected all the parts of our lives together, making us, hopeless wanderers full in our hearts.
Then mum and I went on a shellfish cookery course at Nick Nairn's cook school, which was a fantastic end to the summer. I learnt a lot, but drank too much wine to remember what it was that I learnt. I'll have to just YouTube the next time I dispatch a lobster!
But now it really is time to start packing (I fly tonight!). It is easier returning back to work after 10 days rather than 8 weeks (HOW MANY!!??). I'm not sure I'm going to cope with it!
Enough of that, I'll be fine after a day back in the sandpit. I just need to take a big breathe and hope my bags are under the limit!