A Rite Of Spring.
G’Day,
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I just thought that I would like to add an exotic antipodean air to the proceedings today.
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I would imagine that, all over the UK, people are now indulging in their favourite pastime, which takes place when it has been too wintry here for too long.
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They have probably all been calling into the Travel Agents shops to gather armfuls of brochures describing alluringly hot and sunny places in other, luckier, climes.
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There will be brightly coloured pictures of Spain, Morocco, Mexico, Australia and Africa spread out upon coffee tables all over the land.
Members of staff, supposedly sitting beavering away at their awful daily grind, are actually imagining themselves idling their days away on the shores of some tropical paradise, with fine sand squeezing between their toes.
It is a National Spring Rite which is enacted at the start of every new year.
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Once the holiday is finally chosen and irrevocably reserved, it is then carried around in a little emotional pocket, the thought of which is always available to give comfort and pleasure whenever the grind of life and rubbish weather becomes too oppressive.
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Big and I are not going to indulge ourselves with such foreign attractions this year because we have decided to stay here and look at somewhere that might be a suitable choice as a place to spend our retirement.
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We have chosen to spend a few weeks looking around Cornwall.
Hopefully it will live up to our expectations, being both warm and beautiful, but there is only one way to find out.
So that’s all decided then!
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Where will you go?
Take care.
Jaksiex
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