The night cachers
returned to camp quietly (!) at 2.30am. I lay awake for much
of the rest of the night, finally getting up to unlock the gate just
after 6am. Our campsite looked like a bomb had hit it - it's amazing
how much mess we can generate in the dark. So I got a kettle of water
on to boil, and once I'd cleared the carnage I got washed up. Having
used the rest of he hot water to make coffee I put away the washing
up. It was strange - for all that we would get messy, this camp never
stayed messy. We were a rather organised campsite.
the Rear Admiral soon
emerged from his pit and organised a rather good fry up. Being Sunday
we went shopping after brekkie because shops open at silly times on
Sundays. Personally I would rather go shopping earlier in the day but
today that wasn't possible. But it didn't take long to chivvy up the
makings of tea, together with ginger nut biscuits, paracetamol and
tinned curry.
Back to camp. Feeling
rather tired I closed my eyes, and woke three hours later. I helped
Lisa pack her bits and bobs, and we missed the group photo. At every
Teston kite festival there is a photo taken of everyone who was
camping out. I missed being in this photo. A shame, really. But
hopefully there will be other chances for other photos in the future.
With the wind picking up
I tried to fly a kite or two. But for all that the wind was picking
up, it was a choppy wind; not at all constant. I gave up after an
hour or so.
Teston kite festival is
never complete without a minor medical disaster, and I spent an
interesting hour stepping in to be a backup mother to Leah whilst her
mummy took her little sister for steri-strips and bandages. I thought
I made quite a good backup mother; so did Leah. So much so that she
insisted I be made up like a mother would be. I thought I was rather
sexy.
In theory I was supposed
to be cooking tea. In practice I peeled twelve spuds whist those of a
more culinary bent excelled in the kitchen. We had a rather good
sweet and sour for tea. As always we'd made loads, and it was god to
be able to share with friends of whom we see nowhere near enough.
Sunday evening at Teston
kite festival is always rather sad. We stay on till Monday morning.
Not many people do. We spent quite a while saying goodbye to so many
friends. Some of whom we will only see a few more times this year;
some we won't see for nearly another year. And with the number of
campers seriously whittled down we settled down to attack the last of
the port and the cheese. We did reasonably well, even if we did
manage to break Dick with excessive amounts of port.
er indoors TM"
arrived shortly after 10pm - she'd missed all of the Teson fun having
been to the annual conglomeration of candlemongers in Harrogate. She
soon settled in for a splash of drink, and I eventually staggered off
to my pit shortly after midnight.
No comments:
Post a Comment