With no end in sight to this glorious spell of hot weather, I felt it was necessary to take advantage of the opportunity for another trip to the beach before the holiday hordes descend. Mindful of the brevity of our last trip to the seaside, I chose a spot that I knew the girls would love. It had the novelty of being a place we'd never visited before, and just happens to be one of the best beaches in Devon. It's called Blackpool Sands, but it's about as far removed from its northern namesake as it's possible to be. It doesn't have sand, but tiny, flat stones which don't stick to the skin. There are not donkey rides, the water is crystal clear, and you can't get a 'kissmequick ' hat or a stick of rock for love nor money.

The nice man who owns the beach charges a fiver for the privilege of parking, but it's such a breathtaking spot, that I didn't mind paying. I may have thought I'd got off lightly, but then Rosie and Alice spied an inflatable boat, and I was nagged into forking out a huge amount of money for something that expelled hot air faster than Gordon Brown on Budget Day.

We found our spot, set up camp, and I waited for the whining voice of one of my daughters, asking me to take us back home - but it never came. The day was so glorious, the sky so azure blue, the water so clear and warm, that there was no choice but to stay and enjoy it. We soon discovered that a raft of jellyfish had descended on the shallows, but Alice was soon in her element, and managed to capture 14 in her bucket. The jellyfish came in a variety of exotic colours and Alice was soon holding court amid a chattering gaggle of curious boys.

Rosie and I went for a row in the leaky boat, which managed to keep just enough air in it to enable us to get to the rocky promontory at the end of the bay. The water here was free of stinging tentacles, and we glided around, looking down into the glassy green depths, watching shoals of tiny fish swimming beneath our boat. It was just too inviting to stay dry, so I told Rosie to hang onto the oars, whilst I flipped backwards out of the boat and into the sea. She was happy paddling on the surface, and I was happy swimming beneath. It was a sublime experience.

I got stung a couple of times whilst swimming in the surf, but it wasn't any worse than a nettle sting, and I think it added to the excitement of the day. I had a job persuading the girls that it was time to go home, and we left as the sun was beginning to dip over the lush, green woods that ringed the cliffs. What a magical day, and one I shall never forget.

I thought I was unlucky to swim into a jellyfish, until I spoke to a friend at work, who told about the unfortunate experience of a girl of his acquaintance. She went snorkelling off the coast of Israel; like most people she expected to see exotic fish and coral, or perhaps encounter a dolphin. She was swimming happily along, looking down into the depths, when she collided with a large obstacle - she looked up, expecting to see a rock, or a piece of driftwood, and found herself face to face with a dead cow. How does that happen? You couldn't make a story like that up, but at least it would be something to tell the grandchildren in later life.

Today I made the last packed lunches of the summer. I know I am not alone in loathing the daily tedium of making school packed lunches. It's not that I mind making food for my girls, but that it takes sooooo long in the morning. I never have enough stuff, they always want different fillings in their sandwiches, different crisps, even different biscuits. I make so many trips to and from the fridge and the larder that I'm knackered and irritable before I've even properly woken up. Rosie goes to big school in September and will have a smart card with which to pay for her lunch, and Alice will have school lunches, so this morning I had rather more of a spring in my step that usual. The girls got deli-style tortilla wraps, expensive crisps and exotic fruit as a farewell gesture, but tomorrow they'll have to have what I have, and like it.

I have decided to put a message board up on this website. I've had lots of requests for a widows' forum and I've finally got round to doing something about it. The talented people at Two Four TV.com are in the process of designing it, and it should be up and running in the next couple of weeks. I have decided to give it a trail run for a month, after which there will be a one-off nominal membership fee of £3.00. This is not designed to fund my crack habit, but is necessary in order to deter cyber-losers and oddballs from posting nuisance messages, and also to pay for the development and monitoring of the site. My hope is that the message board will provide a useful forum for widows and widowers, but it will be constantly monitored, and I will make every effort to ensure that the topics are not too depressing by adding a subject for debate each week.

I would really appreciate your thoughts on this proposal, so please write to me to let me know what you think.


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