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.
