Flying the nest...

In Murtas, the first clutches of House-martins in residence under the Church eaves are flying the nest, the odd day one falls out a little early and we carefully pick it up and put it on the wall for the mother - and hopefully not a cat - to find.  Sometimes they gain confidence enough to give it a lash and away they fly, a little wobbly but suddenly grown up.

Seems like yesterday Josh was born, a CZ section birth relieving me of his foot lodged under my rib cage and a large baby with a resemblance to Winston Churchill.   The past 17 yrs have gone in a whisper - almost 7of the last ones here under the languid Spanish sun.  Living in this little pueblo has slowed down my kids late childhood and stretched out innocence and halcyon Summer days just that precious bit longer.
 I think we only had one Irish Summer in 1976!

At 17, I was - or thought I was - an independent female, working and paying tax, partying and jetting off wherever I liked - no strings! Josh is a serious chico, diabetic since age 4 and worries more than I ever did. Party animals that we are, he is our Captain Sensible. Unless he´s with his mates...! That´s him in the middle...

Yesterday he took his first solo flight to see his uncle in Prague - a long time resident there - and as we stood and watched him check in at Málaga Airport and then walk away through security - bag on shoulder, La Liga footballer walk perfected - not a glance back....I thought yay! 
The first of many forays into his real world ....feeling happy for him I wondered why  I felt like his big size 42 trainer was still lodged in my chest....gulp! :(


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