I couldn’t let the letter M go by without devoting some blog inches to the Mountain (which has taken on the rank of Proper Noun for the purposes of this post). In much the same way as NYC is the ‘other star’ in Sex and the City, the Mountain plays a huge supporting role in our little show. Yes, that’s right, I compared my blog to SATC*. We have a Mr B and the star of the show is a little madam who already has a healthy shoe obsession. Similarities end there though, so I will get back on brief.
If you look, you will notice throughout the blog, when I am ever in doubt, I post a picture of the Mountain. When I am sad or otherwise uninspired I post a picture of the Mountain. How lucky we are to have it as the backdrop to our lives. The pictures you see of course are not of the Mountain that we live on, but the mountain that we can see from the Mountain that we live on. We live fairly high up in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. The real massive.
The Mountain that we live on is a total joyride. The road up it is as twisty and turny a road as any you are ever likely to find. Looking down on the road from our terrace it reminds me of Postman Pat country. I am afraid that no photo does it justice. I know the twists and turns like the back of my hand now. Today I nipped down to town to do some shopping leaving Bibs at home with Mr B. I say nipped, I coasted really because we were low on petrol and THAT was fun.
But it was on my way home that I had the real blast. Today was a beautifully sunny, windy day. White fluffy clouds were scudding across the blue sky, because that is what they do. And the wind today was the the kind that send kids and dogs and mummies slightly crazy. I was bombing it up the hill, windows open, the wind whistling through on every bend, I had some fabulous tune playing and I was generally enjoying myself quite a lot. You could say that era un desmadre. I wasn’t the only one joyriding on the hill this morning though. The swallows, who are very much in evidence these days, were also out and about having fun: dive bombing the car and flying along side.
It was a brilliant moment of exhilaration and joy on the Mountain. Racing along with the swallows I felt happy and lucky and free. And that’s quite nice for a mummy like me.
Is it windy where you are? Go and get out in it. Run about in it like a kid. See how you feel.
*I don’t know about you, but I can never see the acronym SATC in print without thinking of the word SNATCH. Not entirely inappropriate.