I went camping over the bank holiday weekend. What?! I hear you cry. Well, glamping actually. Have I turned into this rule-breaking, despicably ignorant human being? No, certainly not. I went 3ft into my back garden and into my tent to sleep under the fairy lights.
Why? Well, why not? Quite frankly, we did it for fun. The weather was mild overnight. Waking up in a tent on VE 75th celebratory day is something that we will remember. And I also felt like we needed to have an adventure. Seven weeks and counting under lockdown is beginning to take its toll even on my stoic child and enduring hubby.
Life’s too short, so make as many memories as you can. We will remember colouring in all the bunting by fairy lights, sitting in thermal PJs whilst listening to the stressy tones of an American voice, silently cursing because we agreed to ‘watch the tablet whilst colouring’, not quite registering that the choice of programme would be down to the youngest member of the household (the budgie doesn’t count),
I actually missed the grand switch on of the fairy lights due to work. I had to log into a webinar taking place in America, so my working day was still going at 9pm that evening. It was being held on Zoom, and I was slightly nervous because I was unsure as to how many was attending, and how interactive it was going to be. My other half said I should look decent enough just in case. You mean the sauce stained, felt-tip marked jumper won’t do?
My nerves were relieved to find 150 of us couldn’t fit on the screen altogether, so we just listened and watched the presenter. He was a confident chap with his material, although a bit nervous about sitting in front of many editors. He’s an IT bod not an editor.
It must be strange to be a host on these webinars as you’re effectively presenting to a black hole, aka the camera. The only audience interaction you get is from a rolling text chat that is usually too quick to let you see it all.
I thought one attendee’s suggestion quite inventive. To calm any nerves the presenter may have had, instead of imagining the audience naked, imagine that we were all laughing at his jokes. I should email him and asked if he did it, and if it help.
After the webinar, I changed back into my thermal PJ top to get back out to the tent to finish my colouring, along the way removing three poops from my hair that I’d found (and there he is, the budgie making sure he’s mentioned this week!).
My daughter read a story once we were all in our sleeping bags and I fell asleep before the end. In the morning, someone was accused of snoring and I received a ticking off about falling asleep. But nothing could detract from relishing in a nice, hot shower in the morning, complete with a nice cup of coffee, knowing that I had had the best four hours sleep in a tent and been the warmest that I had ever been in a sleeping bag outdoors.
Our VE day bunting looked very smart hanging on our tent the next morning. Later on, we made bubble ‘n’ squeak (not much bubbling and squeaking went on, will have to look into that) and flapjacks. Minutes silence at 11am, and cheering at 3pm with a liquid toast.
The last memory I will take from the bank holiday weekend will be the fact that on Saturday I was in a swimming costume, playing in a paddling pool (big kid that I am) and on the Sunday I was out a walk – complete with warm coat, scarf and hat! BIzzare times still.
Some memories can be really small, but will last a lifetime.