Holiday notes

Things I brought home from holiday:

• sunburn
• wasp sting
• buggered shoulder
• small collection of masks (this year’s souvenir of choice)
• sense of guilt over travelling in plague times, despite our efforts to ensure a “sensible” holiday
• question mark over two planned trips in the near future. One (A’s family reunion) is likely to be cancelled, one (sewing retreat) not, which leaves the responsibility of deciding whether to go entirely up to me (but it will be a very small and carefully distanced event).
• sense of smugness that my home is far more scenic than the (very pretty) holiday location.
• powerful need for a massage, thanks to aforementioned buggered shoulder, and subsequent Thoughts about my attitude to things that some people (especially in Switzerland) take for granted as an entirely reasonable good but that to me qualify as ridiculous self-indulgence. You know, like massage, or spa visits, or indeed therapy. I can hold in my head simultaneously the idea that these things are clearly good for you and that they are clearly not necessary or appropriate for me. Silly head.
• Similarly, have become aware of my bizarre reflex to reject anything that Costs Extra. Activities are available for a fee? Clearly a no, right? NO THAT’S RIDICULOUS, STOP IT ROBYNN. It’s not even slightly about what I can actually afford, it’s just this ingrained idea that we Shouldn’t Do That, and really, what the hell? We are not strapped for cash. We can do nice things. Get over it.
• Notes on new stage of kid holidays: playgrounds, even really cool ones, are 100% uninteresting. “That looks nice but not now.” (Or ever.) And the discovery that essential anti-boredom weapon is now a pen and paper. Used to be a toy car; as long as Max had a car in his pocket, all was good. Now they just need to be able to doodle, or play Hangman. Will stock handbags accordingly.