This post comes to you from the bar at the Colonsay Hotel. I've had a lovely meal of salad with crowdie cheese (mild soft cheese with salad leaves and roasted cherry tomatoes), chump of lamb and sticky toffee pudding (a proper homemade one, not a Brakes frozen pudding).
Peaches is asleep upstairs, exhausted by sandcastles and fresh air. Recaro is outside having a smoke - despite his insistence that he loves the sweet smelling clean air, he's determined to stink it up with one licorice flavoured Rizla roll-up. Stinky.
I could have written this post from the lounge or the library, but I chose the bar because I love sitting in pubs. The lights of the beer pumps. The banter of the people. The height of the bar stools. They are decadent, breezy places. All sorts of people, prepared to mix things up.
Over in the library, I know a few of the other residents are enjoying post-prandial coffees. They are busy adding an Agatha Christie air to the proceedings, by being slightly older and slightly bonkers. A couple alternate between giving Peaches very intense stares, and then chortling, 'Good morning, Peaches'. All credit to Peaches for giving some people a wide berth.
Children have an uncanny knack for spotting open hearts and genuine affection - who knows why we lose or mistrust this ability as adults. It would certainly come in handy when dealing with boyfriends...
Today, we played a little more golf, had a traditional British picnic (sat in the car, while it poured with rain outside) and then had a THREE hour siesta, all three of us.
Tomorrow, we are planning to play MORE golf, build MORE sandcastles, eat MORE gorgeous food, visit MORE standing stones and, in general, have MORE fun.
Who has MORE fun than us, in our Colonsay tree house?