Irish holidays, oh yes.

So, tomorrow, I am taking the kids to Achill, a barren but beautiful island perched on the Atlantic coast. It's meant to be nice tomorrow, while we're making the five hour drive there but piss rain and storminess on Sunday.

Axel has vague plans to come over on Sunday night or Monday morning or something, but he has to be back by Wednesday evening so I have hte sneaking feeling he's just doing his thing of saying he will and then not. He's going to ask the band lads to come too, but he hasn't yet - I wonder if he's arranged time off work.

But, we'll see. I am no longer invested in stressing over things like that, non, non. I waited around to do stuff with him for years, and years, and never did. So now... new approach. His mother is amazed that I feel I can drive across the country with the kids, and stay by ourselves. She didn't worry so much when I flew to California with them when my aunt died, other than to tell me Bodhi was my priority as he was sick at the time. She also feels confident that if her husband had left her with young children she would have managed fine, while I can't get it together to put clothes away or sweep the floor.

I did used to be scared of driving big places or new places, but I'm getting over that these days.

I am bringing the laptop with me though, and a trial mobile broadband key - ìt remains to be seen whether it will charge for me or not.

I don't know why my blog-inspiration well has been so dry over the last couple weeks. I hope it comes back. I've been filling myself with cake and cookies all week instead of doing practical things, it's a scary addiction, you know. I'm so fat! I hope to drag my children up mountains if I can, and work some of it off.

See you soon, hopefully!