It Isn't Easy Being Green

My second son decided to turn forty on Friday. This necessitated his lovely partner organising a party and this they decided to do in the fields belonging to her mother who is also one of my oldest friends. This was entitled the Summer of Love tent festival, 1969 revisited. Originally second daughter was attending for me but as she had just started a new position within the BBC she was exhausted and in the end I agreed to take her place. To those that are not au fait, I have been undergoing a series of tests stretching back some eight months now and the latest is an attempt to resolve a pain in my side, which has unfortunately or perhaps fortunately, not shown up on a gallstone scan. In the absence of any other sacrifices I was therefore despatched to Norfolk pain et al. Number one son and his partner took me. It was a good thing that I was not being put up in a tent as there would have been no room in the car as they had all the creature comforts that they could muster with them.

We arrived after six hours as they wanted to stop and have a proper pub meal and then a trip around Asda to buy supplies. I was desperately in need of a gin and tonic by this time as they had started the bickering common to people travelling and not map reading properly. Several G & Ts later I inspected my sleeping arrangements (the old camper van next to the new hay barn) The original barn is still there but the new one is almost three times the size and they have permission to convert it into a house. The main field leading up to the home wood was the camping area and on the level section they had laid out bales for a quad bike circuit. A badminton net was also set up and various other entertainments were available to tire out children. It did start on to rain around 10pm but at this point we were retiring to the hay barn for a karaoke session. They have lots of electrical points and two televisions were set up in the barn for karaoke and games. My friend dragged me off for a much appreciated coffee, to the main farm house, and I actually went to bed without joining in with the singing. This was probably a good thing as I lost my voice many years back and three blind mice is about the extent of my present repertoire.

I made a trip to the porta loo in the night minus a torch and walked into a giant puddle followed by stinging nettles. I woke twice more and read some of my book and watched the dawn come up which is always better out of town. I saw one of the planets close to the Eastern horizon and also a satellite passing over. (they move slower than aeroplanes, or rather they appear to in relation to their distance from the earth) Then I fell into a deep sleep and everyone else got up. They had a barbequed breakfast back on the hill, which was very good and I greatly enjoyed the forbidden fruits of fried bacon, and when the tents were dry (it poured all night) they started to break up camp. At this point and without provocation, I was stung by a wasp. I took a large dose of piriton and sat very still until I was certain I would not react any further but the area is horribly swollen and I have continued with some more piriton in an attempt to curtail its spread. I have also used marigold leaves as my Krishna friend in New Zealand swears by them. I am now green and swollen but I itch less!

Needless to say coming back also took time as we had to stop for yet another meal. To add to this, Second daughter, in her infinite wisdom had saved me a kebab from Saturday with rice and then cooked me a huge chicken dinner. How I am supposed to reduce cholesterol and lose weight whilst amongst certain sections of my family I dread to think. I may go on a prolonged visit to Youngest daughter as at least she is a student and not inclined to feed me more than beans. (Actually she is a great cook but a vegetarian so there are fewer calories!)

Yesterday I saw the physiotherapist for the first time and what a beautiful young man he was. I have some fun exercises to do ha ha and I am due back in September. The next consultation regarding the pain in my side is on the thirteenth. The odd thing is that it did not affect me in Norfolk. Perhaps the stones have passed, if it was that or maybe I do have pulled muscles of some description in that area.

Whilst I was away, my friend John rang again and invited us to a dinner party later in the month so I will get to visit the garden of wondrous delights yet again. This is fast becoming a summer of strange experiences and too much food. Meanwhile the remaining kits are still marauding and have discovered the delights of knocking plants over whilst ensuring ornaments are destroyed. Two are due off in a week’s time Two are still available. (Note the faint pleading tone in that last statement.)