13 July 2009 (Monday) - Home Again

A third restless night. I was packing my bags by 7am – there is only so much laying awake that you can do. Sometimes one misses having ironing to do. A minor disaster - I remembered that I didn’t have a spanner to disassemble the buggy. I’d borrowed one from my brother in law when we put it together on Friday.

And then a text message. One of the youngsters had taken a tumble on Saturday afternoon whilst playing rounders in the rain. The first aiders had diagnosed a pulled muscle. The lad had been to hospital where they found his arm had broken in two places, and would need pinning under anaesthetic to put right.

First aiders are one of my pet hates. These people had been driving around in two transit vans all weekend. They’d written “Emergency vehicle” on the side, and by not sending this youngster to hospital had actually done more harm than good. I recall another kiting injury a few years ago when the so-called first aiders were too busy sucking up to the local mayor to see to their injured. Why do these first aiders bother? Why don’t they just get a job on the ambulances? (rant over…)

I disposed of the ashes from the fire pit and the unburned firewood. And then extinguished any remaining heat in the ashes by tiddling my initials into them. We then had a quick bit of brekkie which (in a novel break with tradition) I helped cook, and then we packed up. Goodbyes were said – the trouble with kiting as a hobby is that all my mates live so far away and we meet up so infrequently.

We were away shortly after eleven, and home and doing laundry by 3pm. I even got the lawn mowed too. I feel worn out. Three nights not sleeping properly and I’ve caught the sun too.

It’s been suggested that we camp out at the Sussex county show at Ardingly later in the year. I’m in two minds about the thing. On the one hand it might be good fun, but it’s a two hour drive each way, and there’s an awful lot of mucking about setting up tents and stuff. It’s not for a couple of months, so I shall give it some thought.

The trouble with camping is that (as “Corporal Clot of the S.A.S.” once told me) there is camping, and there is being miserable in a tent. Whilst setting up our own personal tents is easy enough, we need somewhere to cook. And we need a table to cook on. And all the cooking tackle. And some sort of shelter in case it rains. After all, as we found out over the last few days, if the weather is bad, you need to be prepared for the worst. And that’s why we go so loaded down when we go camping.

I wonder if we could hire a caravan for the Ardingly weekend?

(If you scroll down the page, amongst the stuff on the right hand side is a link to my photos – there should be an album from the Brighton Kite Festival there soon…)