Happy holidays

We've just about dried out from our camping holiday. What on earth was I thinking of? We live in a building site. We needed comfort, pampering, luxury. I know about posh holidays. In fact, I spent years selling the things. How did I book a rainy week in Devon? This Scout Master's wife thing is getting out of hand.

Quent and some fellow campers dug a canal (and chipped through the curbstone) to take some of the water away from our tent. The rest we bailed regularly, in between games of Monopoly. Oakley told me "At least there's no snow" and some friends arrived with a book called "The tent, the bucket and me" (A very funny book about camping disasters, which is crying out for a sequel.) At least Nathan House ward was dry.

While everyone else was determinedly chirpy, I took solace in wine and chocolate and I'm just about drying out from that too.

Still, my patience was rewarded. At the end of our trip, we went to stay with some friends. Suddenly life was full of fast cars, speedboats, a comfortable bed, lunch at Rick Stein's restaurant and sun, sun, sun. Oh and fit, good looking 28 year olds - the Scout Master's wife thing does have its upsides. ;o)


"The lads" in the speedboat

Fun in the sun