Ichabod's Day

Ok. So. I may not be a fully paid up, card carrying member of the great outdoors brigade, but I like to think I am close to nature. I feed the birds everyday, I donate on a monthly basis to a number of local and worldwide nature charities. I spent most of my chlidhood in caravans or boats. However, none of this prepared me for a great british bank holiday camping trip to the wilds of Lincolnshire (well, Woodhall Spa is actually quite civilised but doesn't have the same ring to it!). Followers of the blog may remember that I bought husband (at his request) a tent for his birthday last September and ever since he has been dying to use it. So, off we go, me, husband, dog Disney forgot to draw (dDftd), brother, sister-in-law, 3 kids and 2 teenagers (Kevin and Perry wannabees) and their dog. We packed car at 5.30am on the friday morning - beds, bedding, stove, table, chairs, food, water carrier, blankets, dog stuff, cooking and eating utensils,  "all eventuality" clothing ...

OK, so we bought a tent!! After years of debating whether we should get a campervan, or a static caravan and always deciding that (a) we had better ways to spend money we don't have and (b) we wouldn't use them anyway cos by the time the weekend comes around there are always chores to do around the house and we are too tired from working all week - we stopped talking about it. Anyway, husband decided out of the blue that he wanted a tent for his upcoming birthday. Duly researched best ones, spent a fortune on all the bits - how come you need to much stuff to get back to nature?? And, apologies everyone, but it's rained eversince!! We haven't had chance to go anywhere in it yet. We did manage to get it up in the back garden at the weekend (well saturday didn't rain at least) and what the "instructions" (hardly!) said would take 15 minutes took us an hour and a half and a near divorce. Once it's up it's quite exciting to think that we could actually ...