My make-believe motor-home...

Seems to be I miss my motor-home even more than I thought I would. Although I probably wouldn't have gone anywhere this last week - the fact that I can't is killing me. It's gone, my magic box on wheels, my comfort zone, I miss him so much. It probably doesn't help that I still read, on forums, of other peoples happy travels in their motorhomes and feel so jealous.  I've been doing quite a lot of writing on my Book Two this week and that has brought back so many happy memories of travelling in the Beast. I've now resorted in trying to replicate the feeling by sitting in my sisters shed, with Milo, with the doors shut and peering out the windows. Wave if you see us!

My writing mojo seems to have reappeared this week, I'm enjoying re-living our adventure and still can't quite believe all that happened on our travels. I read an article this morning on J K Rowling - how before her success she 'survived a broken relationship and supported a young child as a single mother while living in poverty' Hmm... we have so much in common ~ I'm single, I'm supporting Milo and I'm poor... Now if I could just get Book Two finished J K and I could meet for a coffee and laugh about the olden days!

I've consoled myself by indulging my Granddaughter to be and bought her the cutest little outfit ever from TKMax. And I also found some of my son's kept baby clothes from 30 years ago. Good old Marks & Spencer and good old moth balls.
I'm now sitting here on a rainy, Sunday morning, swiping through Tinder and wondering why on earth I re-installed the app...


My pretend motor-home...

They should lock me up and throw away the key!...

sooo cute...

still cute 30 years later...

Reckon me and Ade have much in common...