Friends, blog readers, relatives, lend me your ears;
I come not to bury my holiday, nor yet to praise it.
But to explain why in so much as half a holiday was lost,
There was still vacation to be had, and it wasnt half bad.
Coughs and sneezes may spread diseases;
But mass hysteria is nothing when compared with inconvenience.
So let it be with my holiday.
The noble Scotland was my hearts desire.
But that proved to be ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath the holiday answer'd it.
Here, by your leave I come to tell a sorry tale.
For such plans had I made,
to visit the holiday haunts of my youth;
And yet they were to come to naught.
Such schemes had I for the western coasts;
Soft white sands and pale blue sea sought I;
Alongside thoughts of mountains high and eerie.
Long loch's full o' creatures mysterious;
And perhaps, just perhaps a little sunshine;
But of this you may say: he was ambitious;
For no such plans should come to fruition.
My good fortune extended until the fateful day;
When by four wheeled car we would away.
But then the telephone's mournful cry, brought dreaded news.
A sending home on the last day of term;
With temperature high and limbs aching,
Of a little girl most piteous.
Not for us the bonny banks, nor the midges nasty nip;
At home for three days at least we must remain;
With sickly daughter to medicate.
How my heartsick feet did drag, as I unloaded car and bags.
Resigned anew to life i'the house;
With holiday thoughts at once postponed.
Our two week jaunt culled and slashed;
Scotland removed, only the Lake District remaining;
And then, what it if it was raining?
But determination in the face of fate;
Grew great against the threat of precipitation;
Who would care if thunder beat;
Lightning struck and rain clouds broke?
Surely not us, we're hardy folk.
But our friends, of name so wise;
How would they feel of cloudy skies;
These questions of our minds beset.
Until at last when child was well and all;
We set off to meet with Phil and Paul;
In distant Lancaster a rendevous.
From thence another hour sped;
Via mountain road and hidden bend;
Til we came to whence we'd call our home.
And pitched the tents and made a brew.
And scarcely did we see the rain;
Only one night when the site a lake became.
But troubled not were we;
For this we knew was a repreive from swine flu;
And glad we were to take this time;
In land though damp, still far from home.
And fun we had, with geo-cache, and fish and chips;
And this and that, but no midge's nips,
Thusly was a holiday saved;
Like the blessed phoenix it rose anew;
From ashes of campfires bright;
Which smoked and sparkled in the night.
And now, as I stop to reminisce I find;
My heart is once again in the Lakes on holiday,
And I must pause till it come back to me.
With sincere and prfound apologies to Shakespeare,
and thanks to @wisdomsaway for a really fun holiday.