Sonya and I only ever really got to experience fun at the beach during our annual trips to Florida, or the occasional 6 hour hall to Old Orchard Beach in Maine. I have such fond memories of morphing into a prune due to of HOURS on end of relentless boogyboarding. And like every other kid on the planet I always attempted to dig a massive hole, build a sand castle and collect sea shells. I was PETRIFIED of the seaweed and starfish (but then again, I was petrified of practically everything when I was little. True story. As a baby I wouldn't touch grass or deflated balloons. Then eventually it escalated to Koosh balls, wilting flowers, door stops, jets and grates in pools, sensors on toilets or lights...the list is endless. Feel free to laugh, I'm well aware of how ridiculous it all is. I won't be offended). Nevertheless, fears aside, I loved the beach and would jiggle and giggle with excitement each time we went. And even now, as a married woman, I'm instantly attracted to it. Although my boogyboarding days are over, I still wiggle and giggle with excitement, poke and prod little creatures and don't like seaweed. I'm lucky in that over my 4 years in Liverpool I've enjoyed many days strolling barefoot along the sand admiring the crashing waves. That's one HUGE advantage to living on a massive island. A beach is always right on your doorstep. It's amazing.
Today as I ran barefoot down the sandy hill onto Formby beach I took a massive breath of the salty sea air and smiled. Regardless of the fact it was a tad windy, the sun was shining and the air was crisp and clean. Mama Lynne loves the beach the same as I do, so we took a few minutes to soak up the relaxing goodness that comes with the sound and smell of the ocean. We decided it was a good idea to leave the men behind and went to get our toes wet in the sea water. Well, Mama Lynne did. I poked at seaweed (duh) and took oodles of pictures (duh). The truth is that my toes never even got wet because, now that I'm in my mid 20s, I've found new and more exciting things to frighten me. Forget the Koosh balls and deflated balloons people, I'm now petrified of slimy sticky DISGUSTING jelly fish. They invade the beaches of England (hence why I don't swim in the water here) and want to barf whenever I see one. In all honesty I really wish they'd all just bugger off to some remote dessert island that I'll never visit, because after all WHAT IS THEIR PURPOSE?! Anyway, my hatred for jelly fish meant that I had more time to enjoy and film the beautiful English scenery (even if it was with my phone and may be a little small. Hit 'full screen' for a better view). May you now bask in all of it's glory.