Here are son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter on a beach during a brief respite from Storm Gertrude earlier this week. There was just time to splash about a bit and draw a few sand-pictures before diving into the vehicle and heading back to the warm and comfortable log cabin while the wind howled around and the rain cascaded into the already sodden fields and bulging rivers. But it was warm, or at least mild, unlike Gertrude's dramatic visit to America. And everyone is used to rain in Wales. Even when it comes with roaring winds the sheep go on steadily munching and the many ancient castles go on steadily crumbling, and the beaches....well, the beaches are as wonderful as ever, with all that firm, clean flat sand.
I haven't been able to walk on a Welsh beach for a long time, and I was so grateful to have the opportunity do it again. I could walk all day on a sandy Welsh beach, even in the teeth of a gale. Perhaps especially in the teeth of a gale when the surf is rushing up the sand.
This beach is at Tenby by the way, and sometimes it looks like the photos in the link. Not always, though, and certainly not the other day.
We also went here, which, to my mind, is even better, smaller, with a working harbour and lots of rock-pools.
Not only was I aware of the joys of being on flat sand again, but I was also made very aware of my changed status. Now that Little E is talking (constantly, endlessly, entirely engagingly about everything possible) I realise that family conversation involves everyone calling me 'Granny', and I end up calling son and daughter-in-law 'Mummy' and 'Daddy'.
Yet, when I went recently to collect Little E from Nursery she introduced me to the group by my Christian name, saying firmly to one of her companions who called me 'Nanny', 'She's my Annie (Granny), not yours!'
So if she gets it so straight, why don't we?
I reflect on the concept that possibly Grannyhood causes a sort of softening of the brain, as allegedly in pregnancy. I regress. I am in danger of ambling around thinking about fairies and dragons, talking rabbits, frogs riding motorbikes and small furry things in jackets and dresses. Granddaughter, meanwhile, is also investigating astronomy, geography, numbers and human and animal anatomy.
As she reaches forward I seem to lean back. I appreciate the luxury of handing over responsibilities, of having someone else doing the driving and making the holiday booking. In essence, of being able to share in Little E's state of awareness and fascination with the world without the constant tension of having to do something about it all. To take a back seat, literally.
How restful to sit back and watch the scudding clouds and think that Peter Rabbit must be getting awfully wet out there!
