Sad/Glad to be home

Well I'm home and recovering. the short time I spent at camp was so much fun that I wish I were still there, but know I wouldn't have been comfortable.
SATURDAY - Set off for camp - I had my bus swapped at the last moment as one of the mini buses didn't have an 'adult' in the back. (The driver and co-driver concentrate solely on the road). It was brilliant, I was in with Johnny, Ollie, Fowler and assorted other Cubs and Scouts. Top fun, they have such a good sense of humour, observation and knowledge. They can also sing, they know the words to most modern pop songs and make up for what they don't know with tumultuous volume! For instance, they managed to take a beautiful song, "Chasing Pavements" and turn it into something akin to a 200 decibel football chant! So funny.

What goes on at camp, stays at camp.

Apart from.....
A little cub throwing bits of bread at Little Fink and her friend, I shout at him to stop. A little later, Little Fink comes up to me and says, "Please don't tell C****** you are my mum."

Mrs Biscuit and Mr Coultard were both on site, in fine form. Along with The Charioteer and his faithful driver Jeeves who never fail to make us smile. (Jeeves had requested that his breakfast bacon roll be delivered to his tent by the kitchen staff - to which he received a suitable reply!)

SUNDAY - Rain, rain and more rain, some of the kids tents are in danger of becoming waterlogged so all start digging trenches around them to divert the water. The children are filthy and loving it. On site activities including, Backwoods Cooking - "Eugh look at the blood on that fish...yuck...can i touch it?" Cyclo-cross - rerouted as the mud and water made the original route dangerous. Woodworking - Little Fink made Harry the Hedgehog. At elevenses i looked at Little Fink (you only really get to see the children at meal times, the rest of the time, they are spread out all over the site, impossible to find) bearing in mind it is walloping down with rain and she is wet through, I ask, "How hard does it have to rain before you feel waterproofs are necessary?".

Two of the cooking team and I spent the night in the local TravelInn as my back was so sore and they don't camp. I watched the morning (5am) weather report on Monday - Hike Day - to find a severe weather warning had been issued, 60mph winds and torrential rain forecast. By 7am I had decided my back was too painful to stay on site so I phoned Mr Fink and he sleepily agreed to come 160 miles and get me. We cooked breakfast for the hikers, we were worried as the weather was so fierce and the children were due to be hiking across Exmoor - I was sure the troop would be on the evening news having been rescued by the Mountain Rescue people. I found Little Fink - bacon buttie in hand - told her I was going home and asked her what did she want to do (I really wanted her to come home as her eye was going pink again) she declined my offer and said she was going hiking. What can I say?

As the hike parties were leaving we had to create a trench through the kitchen to divert the water through. Mr Fink arrived at about noon and i was very relieved to see him. I said my goodbyes and asked the girls to keep me updated on Little Fink's progress eye=wise and headed off home. Sad to leave but in enough discomfort to be glad to be going too.

Apparently some of the hikes were rerouted from across the top of Exmoor to the beach for safety reasons. I'll know more, hopefully, when I see Little Fink on Friday.

I'd like to offer a big thank you to all the Finkers that have left messages of support on the camp website, you know who you are.

LIVE 07, Festival of Scouting

On Saturday I took Little Fink, Master and Miss Glum and J to the Dome for the Festival of Scouting, the culmination of the Centenary of Scouting. It was a 3 hour exhibition of the innovation and myriad skills of the young people that make up the Scouting community.

On a lighter note - it was 15,000 people involved in Scouting, enjoying a whole evening's entertainment. Brilliant.

The children were well behaved (and a joy to be with) and just as well, I was terrified of loosing them. As we approached the Dome on foot and stood marvelling at the Dome and it's surrounding sculptures, Little Fink piped up, "We've lost J, he's gone"

Argh, we hadn't even gone inside yet. I looked round in the low key panic mode us mum's go into. After 30 agonising seconds Little Fink said, "Ha ha got you, he's here really". he had been hiding behind me the whole time.

I calmly (I thought - considering) asked them to look at my face and tell me if I looked like I thought it was a good joke. We all agreed not to play that little joke again!

The place was packed solid, we moved along in a hand holding chain and checked out the ground floor, after a while we needed to find a toilet before the show.

There is only one set of toilets on the main ground floor of the Dome! The queue was back out onto the main corridor. Again the feelings of minor panic were setting in. The kids have to sit for 3 hours, they need to go to the loo before we go in. The worst case scenario was we would have to take them outside and go al fresco but the fight to get through the crowds made this idea seems almost impossible too. Mrs Coulthard said, "I just heard someone say there are toilets in the cinema". We rounded up the troops (3 women and 6 children) and legged it up the stairs. We asked the man on the door, could the children go to the loo. "No, we had hundreds of people in here this morning trying to use the toilets, I'm not starting it this afternoon".

I begged and pleaded with him just to let the children through and when that didn't work I asked if the manager could come down. When he arrived I stated my case again. I couldn't see a was of getting this problem sorted out and my voice started to crack with emotion/panic.

The manager must have thought I was going to cry or something so he let us through, on the proviso that we didn't tell anyone we had been allowed through! The things we do for our children?

Close encounter with my Cuz

In a few weeks my favourite cousin, Ched and her partner Doris, will be coming to visit for a party. My sentiments in her words, "I'm giddy at the thought", I enjoy her company so much. Many a time we have stayed up drinking and talking, putting the world to rights until we watch the sun rise together. This is my favourite story about my favourite cousin.

Ched was in the pub, testing the local brew for quality and quantity. A man at the bar was extolling the virtues of his shiny new mobile phone and making sure everyone in the pub knew how expensive and full of gadgets and gizmo's it was. He was bragging and boasting to the extreme until My Fav Cuz turned to him and said, "I bet it can't swim" and dropped it into his pint of Guinness.

I wasn't there but I do know Ched and she would have. Like the time we were having a family and friends BBQ. I had invited a few families and Ched too. One of the husbands (we shall call him Coulthard for his driving style on Scout camp) which none of us knew very well, explained to Ched that she wouldn't throw that bucket of water at him (for we were having a water fight) because he was sitting at the table fully clothed. Ched dutifully informed him that if he dared her, she would. He reiterated she hardly knew him and wouldn't actually throw the water.

Ched threw the water and Coulthard was drownded. The moral of this? Ched is fair but don't dare her to do ANYTHING.