It’s a rainy bank holiday weekend here in the UK. Bank holidays don’t mean much when you’re self/unemployed. The only impact it has on us is that the children won’t go to nursery on Monday and I will get a little bit further behind on my writing.
I remember looking forward to bank holiday weekends in the days when I did work for a living. Who doesn’t love a free day off, even if it means battling home in crazy traffic on a Friday night?
I love the August bank holiday the best because it’s when the summer fêtes are held.
As a child we went to the same summer fête every year – to a place called Wisborough Green in Sussex – even though it was an hour’s drive in the camper-van (a long way to go to a ‘local’ event!).
My father often went to the village on holiday as a…
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