Raining in my heart

I don't need to talk about the weather. It's pretty grim though.

Olly and I took Honey for a walk in it. It was the BEST laugh. We ate thousands of blackberries, jumped in puddles, threw stones, patted a horse, spoke to other wet dog walkers, saw quite a few diggers and men at work and brought home some amazing flowery foliage from the hedgerows of Burthallan Lane.

This evening I am a tad glum. Samuel has left for a school trip to Iceland. As he went he said "this must be how it will feel when I go off to Uni." Sam isn't an outgoing boy. He is shy and reserved. Many of the things I had already done at fifteen, he is yet to experience. I literally can't imagine him leaving, and yet it's there already. Just in my peripheral vision. I don't want to look at it.

Paradoxically, I'm so chuffed that he has gone away on a school trip. He'll have a ball, and I'm so glad of that. I want him to live a little. I want him to cut the apron strings. I want his confidence to grow and soar. I want him to travel and explore. I want him home.