08 August 2008 (Friday) - Off To Teston

Things started badly when Brian phoned to apologise for running late. He’d taken a tumble down the stairs. Me and ‘er indoors ^TM charged round to find him sitting and looking rather breathless. But he was game to continue with a walking stick. So continue we did. We arrived at Teston Bridge picnic site to find our usual space had been reserved for us. We unpacked and started setting up, but before long it became apparent all was not well with Brian’s foot. So much so that it was wondered whether a trip to the hospital mightn’t be a good idea. So as we put the finishing touches to the camp site (like tents and things), the two Brians set off for the nearest casualty unit.

Whilst having a well deserved five minute break, one of the smaller campers wandered up to me. Had I seen his mummy? No – I hadn’t. But something told me not to leave it at that. So I asked him if he was all right. He pulled back his long hair to show the side of his face. He’d fallen out of a tree and landed on it. Whilst some of us got ice on his face, others had a frantic “mummy-search”.

Just as Lisa was drumming up a smashing bit of tea, news came in. Brian had snapped four out of five metatarsals (!), and there was talk of keeping him in hospital over the weekend. Following this news it seemed that Brian wouldn’t be returning any time soon, so we ate his dinner. Well… it was a god bit of scoff and it would have been a shame to see it go to waste. But just as I was finishing the washing up, more news came in. Brian had been strapped up and would be back with us within the hour. A frantic dinner-making was embarked upon before he realised what we’d done. Hopefully with all the excitement on his return we got away with it….

09 August 2008 (Saturday) - Another Mishap, and Rain

All was going well, with “Daddies Little Angel ^TM” cooking the breakfast. That is, until she dropped the frying pan and tried to catch it. A morning was spent with her hand in a bucket of water. By mid day it was plain that the hand wasn’t improving so I ran her up to the casualty department. Yesterday Brian had been ages up there. We got instant service. It helps if you run into the place screaming.

And so back to camp. The morning’s hour or so of sunshine had long since worn off, and the afternoon alternated between drizzle and monsoon. Our time was spent constructively tying scoobies, until our mess tent filled up with pretty much everyone who was camping for the weekend. Birthday cakes for the birthday girls. And cake for everyone else too! For a magical half an hour, our tent was buzzing with life. But all too soon everyone wandered off to sit out the rain in the comfort of their own tents and caravans.

On the way back from the loo, a notice nailed to a tree caught my attention. The Old Gits were staging a cultural event for the evening. The Old Gits are a great bunch of guys who make spud guns (out of drainpipes) that fire real potatoes, and for the evening they did a rendition of the 1812 overture. For those of my loyal readers who lack a classical bent (oo-eer!), the 1812 overture is the one that’s played by cannons. Now they didn’t actually have cannon, but they did have balloons filled with oxy-acetylene that were detonated remotely by computer. It was such a shame that the rain didn’t let up all evening, but that didn’t deter culture. Or the firework display that came after.

And for some reason everyone was so tired tonight. Whereas we’d stayed up till gone midnight the night before, people tonight were going to bed just after 9pm. I was on the point of turning in myself shortly before 10pm when some friends wandered over for a pint or two. Jose came out to visit at 10.30pm, and we sat chatting until 11.30pm.

I slept like a log…

10 August 2008 (Sunday) - The Sun Came Out

It has to be said that I woke up with a sense of dread. With two trips to casualty, one of the littluns having fallen from a tree onto his face, and a day of torrential rain followed by overnight hurricanes, my hopes for the day weren’t high.

But we had a great day. I got out pretty much all of my kites and broke three of them. And my line reel snapped too. But it was all good fun with kites – something I do so rarely these days. I played “rain cloud” – you fill an empty pop bottle with water, do the lid up and make a small hole in the bottom of the bottle. You tie the neck of the bottle to the kite line and let out line. With a good enough wind, the kite takes the bottle up into the air. You carefully wait until the bottle is over your mate’s head then shake the line. The water stays in the bottle until you shake the line, at which point your victim thinks it’s raining. Hours of fun!!

Ron came up to our site and asked if we would like a summer fruits pudding – they had too many. Oh – that pudding was lovely!! And the afternoon followed in being just as good. We had several visitors during the afternoon, including my brother who I’ve been trying to get to a kite festival for years. He’s thinking about camping out next year.

Following a quick trip to Tesco’s and a really good bit of tea, the evening was spent drinking wheat beer, watching the ladies playing boules, and waiting for ‘er indoors ^TM to return. We had been expecting her back from a symposium on flogging candles to an unsuspecting public at about 8pm, and she was only an hour later than expected. A quick star-gaze, and to bed about 11pm (ish)