In September 1982 we shared a Gite with our friends Ann and Don in Brittany.
The group nearest the centre of this underpopulated beach at Bréhec include Jessica, Ann, and Sam.
a string of gleeful children danced their way to the ocean;
a lone woman passing them traversed the beach.
Hand in hand, Jessica and Ann led Sam into the water
and swung him to meet the wavelets.
Ann continued the gymnastics
while Jessica went for a paddle.
Sam dried off, and told his sister all about it.
On another occasion I watched a woman enjoying a paddle.
At our numerous barbecues Don was master of the coals.
It was at that time that Sam received his first cut. I still remember my sadness at my beautiful boy having suffered his first blemish. During Siesta time, when, of course, nothing was open, we came across a broken shop window. ‘Don’t’, said I, as our three-year old made a dive for the broken glass. Too late. He grabbed it and brought some away in the palm of his hand. Which I could not get him to open. Even if I could I would need a pair of tweezers. We found the duty chemist which was open. She had some tweezers. But how was I going to get Sam to expose his palm? She smartly provided the solution. Out came a bag of sweets. Our lad could not resist one. Poised, tweezers in hand, I knew I had, at best, one chance. Sam’s fingers spread tentacles and snaked out for the sweet. I swooped with the tweezers. The implement secured and withdrew the shard of glass. Sam ate his sweet and we bade the woman goodbye.
Ann bought an ice cream and provided a cuddle, and all was well.
One of the most memorable moments of this holiday was the return journey. Ann had decided she may have exceeded her tobacco allowance, so Jessica and I carried a quantity of our friend’s cigarettes in our car. We followed Ann and Don off the ferry. They waved as they drove off into the sunset. We were stopped and our yellow Renault was subjected to a full body search
