Of holidays in gypsy caravans and log cabins.
Tucked away from the world in a yurt bedecked with turquoise painted furniture and snuggling beneath patchwork quilts as the wood-burning fire keeps us warm.
Or lounging in polyester p-js in a retro pineclad fantasy with egg chair,where's the sauna?
Stealing time with my gypsy king in a Romany caravan, life under the stars imagining a life trudging through dusty roads like in a Thomas Hardy novel( although with a happy ending) romantic,eh?
Holiday porn from this wonderful place.
I need a holiday, can you tell?
I have had lines from Maya Angelou's poem,Still I Rise going round my head today.
These excerpts in particular have been echoing around my little brain, it gives me strength..
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
The poem is even more powerful and moving when you hear Maya Angelou recite her words.
Holding fast over the next few weeks.