Last weekend, Andre and I snuck off to Wales for two rare days
- filled with sleep, food, and laziness.
A six-hour drive.
Seven if you count the service station.
306 miles.
Across the country.
Up first-gear hills.
Down hidden lanes.
We eventually found our home for two days - slap bang in the middle of nowhere.
Hungry,
a little over-excited (me) and a bit sleepy (him),
we took the half-hour amble to the seafront pub.
Menu read.
Decisions made.
We went to the bar to order.
A young lady attentively took our request.
We paid and turned to leave.
She paused -
"Umm… your necklace.
The little moon… with the face..."
"Yeah?" I said.
“Did you get that off Instagram?”
My heart twitched.
“Who from?” I asked.
A glimmer of hope creeping in.
“Hmm… is it RockCa...”
I squeaked.
Before she could finish.
This never happens.
Andre got goosebumps.
I stood there stunned.
Day made.
Ego beaming.
That rare kind of magic
you can’t plan for.
I must be doing something right,
somewhere along the way.
Thank you, Kate.
If you ever read this. 💕
Maybe this is what happens when you keep showing up,
even when it feels like no one’s watching...
