Party time...

Getting ready was fun, after freshening up in the shower, I was sharing the bedroom and bathroom with all the female members of the R family, and they scrub up remarkably well! I did a bit of girly bonding with H, as we compared spots, and I was able to lend some of ace spot cover stick, so I made a new friend....

When we were all ready, and after S had been allowed 5 minutes in the bathroom, perfectly adequate for the average male in terms of getting ready, we all admired each other's outfits/shoes/hair/makeup etc etc and we headed off to the party.

Well, it was great...a simply brill venue, more food than we could eat, even at two or three platefuls each - there were about 100 of us trying to get through a spread for 300, or that's how it felt. K, although it was her 40th, had spent two days cooking and shopping and providing the most fantastic spread for her friends and family..she is amazing.

The disco was good, the dj cool and not irritating, as they can be, and he played all S & K''s favourite music. I danced, some friends danced, tho mostly girlies, as most blokies I know just don't dance, which is a real shame. But I lvoe dancing and had a good time,a s well as chatting with friends and finding that 1am came round amazingly quickly, and it was time to walk, yes, walk home. Mmmm...my new shoes were beginning to hurt, but luckily I had S to keep me company and to chat to, so I made it back.

Quite a few party goers came back to the house, where drink continued to flow (I stuck to orange juice and then coffee, you'll be pleased to know) and the kareoke dvds appeared, and so much singing and laughter ensued..I had a go at a couple..one was Queen's Don't Stop me Now, the other..well it was a girly one, don't remember exactly....

I got into conversation in the kitchen with a very drunk young man, who undid his shirt and tried to persuade me he had a third nipple..I couldn't see it, but he did have a great deal of dark chest hair, which I rummaged my hands through..he was so drunk he didn't seem to mind, and I quit enjoyed it. We were getting on very well when his girlfriend appeared to claim him..oh well, that's life. I owned up to looking for the third nipple in his chest hair, and she looked at her boyfriend with amused resignation and said, come on, let's get you home....so I was safe.

I had a couple of little rests on the sofa as the night went on, and rested my eyes, much t the amusement of L and S, yes I was in the company of reach Out and Touch the Screen, and Horse Wrestlers..those Evil Twins whose Reputation Goes Before Them. I only had a couple of quick naps, but stayed the course until 5am, when taxis were called to take us away.

I went upstairs to get my coat and bags, and as I did so, I checked my hone for messages, as you do. The screen saver which sprung into life was not my normal one. Instead there was a photo of me asleep on the sofa. Grrrr.how does she do it? I went downstairs and called her rude names. She denied all knowledge.

Later, back at her house, I asked to borrow some contact lens solution, as I appeared to have lost mine. Oh, she says, it's in your handbag. Slight pause. Oh, I know that because S told me. Yeah, right.

And you are not going to see the photo on this blog. It is not a pretty sight. Looks a bit like my mother on a bad day snoozing in her chair at her residential home. Clearly I feel very much younger than I look. Don't we all!

Back to my roots..almost...

After a morning at work, I headed home, packed a bag, talked to the builders, then got a lift to Watford junction in time for the train to Manchester.

Train travel is not what it was. I swear trains have got smaller. This one was rammed, I only just got a seat, but I felt squashed and surrounded, and compelled to listen to the young Asian guy next to me on the phone to his mate, with phrases like, 'You understand man?, Know what I mean, innit?' I had to look to make sure I wasn't seated next to Sacha Cohen...

I couldn't read, but put on my headphones and listened to music and tried to sleep. I caused the guy opposite to laugh outloud when I sneezed and my headphones flew out of my ears....

Much texting with Martin F who was on a parallel train heading north, and the plan was to co-incide at Stockport, and take the local train to Heaton, and there be met by the lvoely Stuart. However, Stuart arrived at Stockport as I was waiting on the platform, so I texted Martin I had a better offer, I was collected by Stuart, and we drove to Heaton in time to pick up Martin.

As I walked up the slope at the back of Stockport station, I came up to the main road and took this picture of the first thing I saw:

The boarded up Bluebell hotel...a wonderful, classic building which was once glorious I suspect...kind of took me back immediately to arriving in Stockport as a fresh faced drama student, to find my digs in Tiviot house, a similar imposing Victorian house, home to 14 girls from the Poly, the most dirty flea infested lodgings you could hope to live in. My dad dropped me off, my mum I suspect was too upset at my leaving to come with us...my dad's parting remark was, 'It's a good job your mum can't see where I am leaving you....'

This time, Martin and I were driven to S and K's house, their new home, and I was quickly given the guided tour by K: what a lvoely, lvoely house, which is truly a home...the kettle was on and there was time for a cup of tea before getting ready for the party...I was with friends, and it was lvoely.....

Bored now....

Been awake on and off...since about 4.30am I gave up..got up, let dog out, took nurofen, made hot milk (would have added whiskey but in the kitchen chaos, can't find it), read the paper, now it's 5 to 6am, and still wide awake....

Came home from work early and went to bed, just lay listening to music and trying to relax ... Laura came round after work and found me not in a good state.. she was lovely and caring and understanding, but I don't want her to see her mum this bad... anyway, we talked and shared loads and got a Chinese takeaway and had a good evening..I am so very lucky that she lives close by and we can catch up like this. We are promising ourselves a major shopping trip very soon...

The kitchen is causing me great stress, problems with plumber and project manager, how is it they talk to me as if I was stupid?? I am not... I was promised it would be finished and it isn't. Came home yesterday expecting to find worktops fitted and they are not. Cupboard doors hung but some the wrong way round...I took Laa into the kitchen to show her and unfortunately the stress of it means I just can't cope with it, and I just cry..she says it really is going to be ok and will look good..but agrees there are some issues. I need to ring the builder in the morning, but I can't face the stress..

Still, I will go into work for a bit, then come home and pack, and hop on a train heading north. Just for 24 hours I will be away from it all, and with good friends. Heaven.

Repeat viewing..sort of....

Me and Rosemarie planned a cinema outing tonight. She suggested Ratatouille! Given that there was absolutely nothing else on we wanted to see, and I just a. wanted to be out of the house and b. see Rosemarie, I didn't tell her I saw it last week with Clive, and went again.

I laughed like a drain at the first short film, priceless, and settled down with my coffee and large packet of m&ms to watch the main feature. Not only did I stay awake throughout, I realised just how much I had missed last week! Man, I must have slept through half of it! So I was glad I went again...

We went our for a drink after, and I bent Rosemarie's ear for over an hour re life, work, kitchens, relationships, HRT, and bless her she listened - again....

Thank God for friends, who help me cope far better than any pills.

Anyway, as I sat in a traffic jam today I fell asleep at the wheel...made me decide that driving to Manchester and back at the weekend probably isn't safe! I seem to fall asleep anywhere except in bed, which is extremely annoying....but I have booked my train tickets now, so I can travel in comfort, complete with i-pod and a good book..though I will probably close my eyes for a bit...

What is it to be?

Went to the doctor tonight. She was very kind and understanding and tolerant of the person going to pieces in front of her. So, what is it to be? I have a choice...back on the anti-depressants or try HRT? She looked at the screen - I see you have a history of depression - actually, no I don't, I was on them for six months almost two years ago, after my parents died..I don't think that counts as a history...

I'll be ok if I can just get some sleep...if my kitchen could get finished and my house back in some kind of order.

I go to work and come home. Clive is around, he gets the shopping now, and puts something in the microwave for two minutes, and hey presto, we have dinner. I have forgotten how to cook. Shopping used to be what I did. I sit on the sofa and can't remember what to do. What did I used to do with my time? Tonight I put on a dvd to pass the time, and, yes you guessed it, I went to sleep....

Not sure where I go from here. Except to Manchester on Friday, of course...hope I keep awake driving!

A guaranteed way to get me to sleep...

Oh yes, let me lie down in a comfy bed at night, and insomnia strikes almost instantly. So the best way for me to get some sleep is to pay out good money for something I really want to see, a good film, theatre, or..let me see...a folk group...and I go out like a light, as if drugged. At one point during the film Ratatouille last week, I woke myslef up with my snoring....

Tonight I did make it to the folk club in Hitchin, and C was quite keen to come too, it was the thought of having dinner in the bar first, he couldn't face another microwave dinner, and last night's m&s spag bol had him sitting up in bed until nearly 2 am apparently, feeling quite nauseous.

Anyway,we went, and saw and heard the amazingly talented Spiers and Boden. They could call themsleves John and Jon, but perhaps not...I did stay awake for a lot of it, and very good it was too. I first came across them at the Wickham Festival, which my cousin took me to last year, and after he lent me some of their CDs and now I am a great fan. They are leading members of the band Bellowhead - you may remember me mentioning them at Cambridge Folk Festival....

A better day, did some tidying, had a long talk with my auntie, walked the doggie in the autumn sunshine, was joined by DC walking the three legged dog, which he only does about twice a year. It would have been lvoely if I hadn't picked an argument, quite unnecessarily, and got the strop, when actually a walk in the warm autumn sunshine through a carpet of fallen leaves with company and at least one enthusiastic doggie to chase a ball..well, if things are going too well I just spoil it, don't I! I blame the hormones.....

After doggie walking I went for tea and cake with Jacky and Peter. As we were chatting I said, oh B*gger, I meant to bring some washing over, I forgot it. Then, as I was leaving, I was getting in the car, and Jacky pointed at the basket of clothes on the passenger seat and said, what's that? And then it dawned on me..and we both giggled a bit..and I took my dirty washing home again.

Well, time to attempt sleep I think! Goodnight, lvoely friends.

Later on Sunday...

So blogging and sending angst ridden e-mails in the middle of the night is probably not a good thing...however, I tried to sleep around 6.30am and probably got an hour or so. Got myself breakfast in bed. Got a text from DC advising me to go to church..probably a good bit of advice and maybe I ought to turn to God more instead of handling things alone. But I am craving time alone rather than a church full of people who probably see me (yet again) dissolve into tears....

C has stopped going to church recently, but this morning he has gone, so I am alone...it seems odd doesn't it, that I say in one blog I am lonely, and yet I crave time alone..some personal space..I am sure you can work out the difference between alone and lonely..I remember our English teacher Miss Smith getting us to put the words into sentences so we learned the difference. Good job I paid attention at school What do you remember learning? I remember learning about the discovery of Tutankhamen's tomb in history (well, it wouldn't be maths would it!)...

Anyway, Merlin has cheered me up..I have been on msn to George and she has cheered me up, I am getting excited about going to a party on Friday, seeing friends, if I am lucky dancing, either on my own or with some hunky men (note you men, I like to dance....) The sun is shining. The kitchen may yet turn out ok. I do not need to consider ending it all. There is too much to lvie for, even of the fine detail of my life sometimes overwhelms me. It's either walk away or deal with it.

I think I will ring my aunt, my mum's sister. Not spoken for a while. She will be pleased to hear from me. this afternoon am going to Jacky's for a cup of tea and doggie walk. There is a folk gig on in Hitchin tonight I want to go to, people I know who would like to come with me can't, so shall i ask C? He might. if not, I will go on my own.

Be thankful for what you have in life, not what you don't have. I have a very dirty and untidy house. I will be grateful, and soon, when the work is finished, tidy it up.

Have a good Sunday. Bye! x

Early Sunday morning...

Been awake since just gone 2am. Tossed and turned as they say. Got up finally about 4.30am. Let dog out. Made hot milk. Read, drank milk, ate biscuits. The came on line. Read Merlin's response to my Saturday night blog. Bless him.

So needed someone to talk to, I have written the longest e-mail on the planet to a close friend while tears poured down my face and I poured out my feelings into a laptop. That will make fun reading in the morning. Maybe I should have pressed delete, not send.

Anyway, look at this....symptoms of the menopause....

Hot flashes, flushes, night sweats and/or cold flashes, clammy feeling (see note)
Irregular heart beat
Irritability
Mood swings, sudden tears
Trouble sleeping through the night (with or without night sweats)
Irregular periods; shorter, lighter periods; heavier periods, flooding; phantom periods, shorter cycles, longer cycles
Loss of libido (see note)
Dry vagina (see note)
Crashing fatigue
Anxiety, feeling ill at ease
Feelings of dread, apprehension, doom (see note)
Difficulty concentrating, disorientation, mental confusion
Disturbing memory lapses
Incontinence, especially upon sneezing, laughing; urge incontinence (see note)
Itchy, crawly skin (see note)
Aching, sore joints, muscles and tendons (see note)
Increased tension in muscles
Breast tenderness
Headache change: increase or decrease
Gastrointestinal distress, indigestion, flatulence, gas pain, nausea
Sudden bouts of bloat
Depression (see note)
Exacerbation of existing conditions
Increase in allergies
Weight gain (see note)
Hair loss or thinning, head, pubic, or whole body; increase in facial hair
Dizziness, light-headedness, episodes of loss of balance
Changes in body odor
Electric shock sensation under the skin and in the head (see note)
Tingling in the extremities (see note)
Gum problems, increased bleeding
Burning tongue, burning roof of mouth, bad taste in mouth, change in breath odor
Osteoporosis (after several years)
Changes in fingernails: softer, crack or break easier
Tinnitus: ringing in ears, bells, 'whooshing,' buzzing etc. (see note)

I don't have all these symptoms, but I sure have some of them pretty badly! So having just had a really, really, bad day, and made someone else miserable with my upset, depression and tears, and nearly ruined an already damaged relationship, just because I am so impossible to cope with, it makes me feel worse, how can I put things right when I am so messed up? When will I be a normal person again?

Saturday night reflections...

A time for reflecting on my week....the kitchen still being worked on. Over 8 weeks now. The house a mess. The kitchen project a stress. A lot of money. And I mean a lot of money. Makes me feel sick. What if I don't like it? If it's not what I wanted or hoped for? It's my mum and dad's money. I cry every time I say that. I will never have it again. I will never have them again.

Sleep. or lack of it. Night after night after night..of wakefulness. Of thinking. Of tormenting myself about what could be. Loneliness. Hormones. Headaches. Worrying. Getting more and more tired....

Work. Funding bids. Committee meetings. Conflict. Tears. Families. People. Their stories. Their needs. Someone dying. Leaving a wife and children. A single mum with three children including a disabled child. A new mum with a small baby, coming to terms with a diagnosis of MS. All trusting me with their stories. And their tears.

How come I can help people sort their lives out, but I can't do mine?

Business meetings. A good year. Targets met. But at what cost?

Tonight, a Saturday night of tears. Thinking. Tiredness. A night of not wanting to be. A night of wanting to be needed. Held. Loved.

Tough.

I know. Pull yourself together. Too much thinking. Too much feeling sorry for myself. Get a life, get over it. Get some sleep....it will all seem better in the morning....

One for the dog lovers....

Pictures of Sophie dog getting used to her new bed, the old one having been disposed of as hazardous to health....she seems to like it and curls up in the furry warmth, which must be good for her arthritis...

She is doing really well, her coat is sleek and shiny again, not falling out, and despite oddly shaped front legs which bend like those on regency cabinets, she is bouncy and keen to go walkies. She is now eating food for 'senior dogs with kidney failure'..looks a bit dry and tasteless, but she eats it up and appears to be benefiting...so maybe she will make Christmas and celebrate being 15 after all!!

I only wish, as someone kind enough to share my room with her, that she didn't spend much of the night retching or making horrid similar noises, it doesn't help my sleeplessness..I was up at 6.30am to let her out this morning..triffic.....

Books 5, Films 2....

Read on holiday:

1. Temptation by Douglas Kennedy. A good book to read on the plane and first day on the beach....

2. The Greek for Love by James Chatto. A wonderful book to read whilst in Greece...a true story set on Corfu, which is lovely and touching and real and sad..and a story with which I have a bizarre connection....more of which another time....

3. The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid by Bill Bryson. A very good book for the third day of the holiday...but dangerous and embarrassing to read in public. It was the one thing that made me laugh on holiday, explosions of laughter and helpless giggling, which had me almost fall off my sun lounger, and had C tell me stop stop reading in front of people. So I would put the book down, lie back on my sun lounger, then think about what I has just read, and explode into giggles all over again....

4. Halfway House by Katherine Noel. Having read the three books I brought by the fourth day, I raided the book shelf in the hotel reception and found this..another American book (that made three out of the four) about a family coping with having a daughter suffering from manic depression. Interesting.

5. The Devil wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger. Having got into reading on holiday (non-stop) I wanted to continue, and so picked up this book lent to me by Laa..she and I watched the dvd some time ago, so I knew the story but enjoyed it as an easy read.

6. A Spot of Bother by Mark Haddon. About to start it. Got it for Mec for his birthday and have borrowed it. He was reluctant to hand it over. Why? Well, it is a bit explicit..not sure you'd like it..gay men and stuff...oh for heavens sake Mec, give it here, it's ok, really....I'll let you know...

Films seen since return from holiday:

1. Atonement. Went with Laura. I had read the book, don't think she had. We both thought it brilliant. I stayed awake all the way through! Actually found the book hard going, didn't really enjoy it, but the film was beautifully shot and acted, and I had forgotten some of the storyline, so some bits truly shocked or surprised me.

2. Ratatouille. Seen with Clive last night. Pixel animated film, they just make the word 'cartoon' seem so, so inadequate...and the little short film they show first is a delight, a treasure and worth going just for that...I was tired, I did fall asleep in Ratatouille, woke myself up snoring. How embarrassing. But it is fun and sweet....I had my hair done yesterday and it is ok, but I intend to go a bit more plummy in the winter, and the female lead in this film had hair the cut and colour I would lvoe..how sad to sit in the cinema and be jealous of the cartoon character's hair....

Strange times....

Life feels weird right now....or may be it is all inside my head...is is sleep deprivation? After my immense and deep tiredness at GB, I was home briefly and trying to sort out the house as the kitchen work had started and thrown us into disarray..then I was off to Edinburgh, and didn't sleep well, then next day off to S&gar Hill to work another festival where sleep was in short supply..coming back life was so busy I and stressful I didn't stop, and by the time I flew off to a Greek island, all I wanted to do was sleep....

But is was hot at night, and C told me there was no air conditioning, so I spent a long time awake (especially with the snoring...) and by the time I looked myself and discovered there was air conditioning (grrrr) and switched it on, a few nights had gone by, then I couldn't sleep cos of the noise of said air con, so I switched it off....plus I had much stuff in my head, I am not really relaxing mentally....

So, back home to my own bed, one would have thought I could sleep, but now strange hormonal stuff is going on ( I think) and I am thrown into long nights of feeling like I am at least dying of malaria, almost delirious with a high temperature and fever and bathed in sweat...if I sleep with the window wide open and have no bedding on I just about survive.

Added to this I am feeling low, quite negative, depressed and weepy, once again leaving a committee meeting tearful, having my horrible downward spiral black thoughts, and wondering what the point is of going on....

Added to this mix is a kitchen not finished after six weeks, the stress of stuff going wrong, me left to handle it all, to make decisions, unsure whether to sack the builder and start again, difficult meetings after sleepless nights thinking about what to do...last Sunday I rang James, my lvoely lovely son, I was in floods of tears, and he dropped all his plans and came home and worked until 11pm on going through everything, producing a professional 3d design of what I wanted, and helping me put together a 26 point agenda to go through with the builder the following morning.

I think things are back on track, but things are still messy, still living on microwave meals, and 6 weeks in they lose their appeal....and life is busy, and stressful, and full of meetings, day job, evening job, challenges..I know I am capable, know I can do it, running training, managing volunteers, project managing a festival..but somehow certain meetings with certain people disempower me and make me feel under valued and not appreciated. And make me want to give up frankly.

And I am coping with the loss of my own personal space, with life as I have known it for the last 30 years, with C having retired, and he is home all the time, in the mornings when I am used to being alone, and when I get home..when I am used to my own personal space and time..it is a huge change which I am only just beginning to deal with...badly....

Still it's all probably hormonal, yes I have spots too, but hey, I will feel better next week and be back to my normal self, and blog funny stories..if anyone is interested in reading them....

Then there was Greece....

..or the Island of Samos, to be precise, close to the Turkish border...after a season of festivals, and a lot of work, and with post S*gar Hill work, together with another meeting for the festival we are project managing next July, and loads of work at work, ie my proper day job, and my AGM coming up, and an annual report to prepare, I got a bit stressed....

So the prospect of spending the last week of September on a beach somewhere was very appealing (and explains the blog silence) and before I went I handed over all (or as much as possible) to my business partner, and he promised to see to everything, and I was to simply enjoy my holiday and leave everything to him.

Well, that's ok then.....there were only a few phone calls, and two sessions on the internet checking e-mails, and one call taken on the beach and hearing the famous words, 'Sally, can you sort this out, I have left messages for Dave, and I can't get hold of him and he hasn't returned my calls,'....one terse voice mail later, it seems to have done the trick....

Anyway, I almost relaxed, but then the builders were in working on the kitchen (yes, I still don't have one) and my secretary was working on the annual report, and the AGM was the day after I got back, and I had my talk to write...so I couldn't switch off completely...

Still..it was good...the hotel, the food, the beaches, the sea, the island...a week was not long enough...but then I wanted to come home and see my friends...I miss them....and here are the pics...

And the next night....really and truly....

You remember the adventure with the caravan when attempting to leave GB? Well, PA said at the time, 'Something happens to this van at every festival..what next time?' Well, it's true, wrapped round a lamp post at Cambridge, flat tyre on route to Cropredy, stuck under grandstand at GB..what on earth could happen at the next festival?

Nothing, we said. Absolutely nothing...the fact that it was almost lost in an unseasonal flood in June, doesn't mean this van is jinxed...really.

So, there we were, attempting to leave S&gar Hill at a respectable time and get home to eat dinner with our respective families. Then we had the Traveller crisis (see earlier blogs) and we promised the farmer to take full responsibility for them leaving, and we promised not to leave unless they did.

Hmm. Time went on, we packed, they packed, we hung about a bit, and so did they, in an unhurried nice summer evening kind of way, until 7pm when they departed. Hugs and waving and photos, and they were on their way, and so we prepared to depart. I decided to ring home and say something like, you know how we left later than planned from GB cos we got stuck? Well, this time it was because of the gypsies, dear....C no longer seems surprised by what I have to say, but surprised me by saying he wasn't expecting me til tomorrow anyway, and no worries, he would go to bed and not wait up. Ok, no problem, I could relax.

We decided to go up to the farm house and say goodbye before hitching the caravan, and we took a bottle of wine for good measure to celebrate the end of a good festival. As we walked into the warm and welcoming farm house kitchen, dogs chasing about and playing and good food cooking, Farmer's wife gives us both hugs and thanks us for our hard work and insists we stay and eat with them. I open my mouth to say, oh, lvoely, (it's gone 7.30pm at this point and I am starving and it looks like a good lasagne) as DC says, no, sorry, we must get going. He saw my face, and went and made that phone call home..I said no, sorry of course we must go, we will go now, and he said, no, I have rung home now and said we are going to eat first, but we mustn't stay long.... (you can see where this is going...!)

Farmer and wife and so delighted with success of festival and the fact that the travellers have gone, and they are not stuck with a horrible eviction problem, and want champagne, so DC gets some from the caravan. We sit in the lounge, I haev little puppies jumping on me and playing, I have a glass of champagne, I am warm and dry and relaxed and about to eat and Very Happy.

We sit round the big farm house table and eat lasagne, followed by fruit pie and cream, and even coffee, and we talk...and suddenly, oh is it really that time? Almost 11pm? Oh dear....we are well fed, full of champagne and warm..and I am a trifle sleepy....Farmer's wife even offers us to stay the night...

However we take our leave and head back to the pitch black field and tray and find the caravan. Farmer has asked us to do him a little job on the way, which holds us up, but we find the caravan with the help of our headlights, and we stop in the darkness and look up at the wonderful starry sky which is beautiful in the black dark. For a moment it crosses both our minds that all we want to do at this point is sleep...should we stay? But I have work in the morning, and DC confesses he has to leave for North Yorks at 6.30am, so we are brave and sensible and get eh caravan ready to depart, winding up the little legs, etc. DC backs the landy up to hitch up but is an inch short. Hitching is not happening, so i offer to back up the landy an inch. I am holding the torch and shivering in the cold cold dark. I see the farm house lights go out and we are alone.

DC attempts to hitch by undoing the jockey wheel and hopes the caravan will lurch forward and pop on. All that happens is that the jockey wheel comes off completely, the caravan lurches forward and lands on its nose, on the ground, missing the tow hitch. B*ll*cks, he says. We cannot lift the caravan up on our own. DC tries, but it is obvious that he is now tired and cold and not thinking clearly. I however, am ok, in a good mood, being sensible and thinking clearly. Is this possible, can we lift the caravan, if not, we don't even try and go to bed and get Farm help in the morning. No, DC wants to do it. Right, let's wind the front legs up, I say, to take some of the weight and see what we can do. I start doing that, and DC looks at me and thanks me for keeping calm and doing the thinking , and keeping him from 'losing it'.

I say it's my pleasure, and between us in the pitch dark and cold by about a quarter to midnight we get the caravan hitched. What a team. We prepare to leave, but as DC gets more tired he gets slower and more pedantic. He insists on doing the usual light check, he gets in the landy and I stand at the back of the caravan and he says do the indicators work and i say yes they do, no they don't, that old joke. This time he says do the brake lights work, and I say no they don't, and he says don't mess about, and I say, no they really don't. We discover the brake and reversing lights won't work on the caravan or landy. I say oh bugger, can we not go anyway, and DC says no, it's dangerous. I say, do you think God is telling us to stay and sleep and not drive? No...So out comes the manual, we find where the fuses are under the dashboard and which fuse does which set of lights, and I hold the torch and he puts in the spare fuses, and after about half an hour we are ready to go again....

I get in the landy after checking the lights and DC has vanished. I get out and he has taken the number plate off the back of the caravan and says he is not sure it is on securely enough and so we are now looking for blue tak and sticky tape to pout it back on. I hold the torch and help and have got to the helpless light header giggly stage that this will go on all night, and still I feel strangely calm....

We are only in Swindon, an hour and half away from home, so now it's gone 12,30am we will be safely home by 2.15am....

Once we set off, and the landy gets warm, I am out like a light, fast asleep, I knew I would. Every now and then I wake up with the landy lurching or swerving slightly, as DC struggles to keep awake. I try to stay awake too, talk to him, put music on, open the window, but it is like I am drugged and I cannot stay awake. We make good progress down the motorway but DC is really falling asleep, so by Reading we give up and stop for strong coffee. We get coffee to take away, and I say, come on, we are only 45 mins away now, you can do it. (The issue is, dear reader, I should have explained before, that I cannot share the driving because of the caravans, and therefore it is totally his call to stay or go in the first place) Suddenly DC says, it's no good, I have to sleep, let's get in the caravan for a while. It is now gone 1.30am, we sit in the back of the caravan on the bench seats and drink our coffee. The coffee is hot, the van is freezing after the warmth of the car.

I am going to get a couple of hours sleep, says DC, lying down on his bench seat and immediately snoring like you have never heard. I sit there. Of course I am now wide awake, cold and wondering how my life turns out that I am in Reading services in a caravan at almost 2 o'clock in the morning, and we didn't intend this to happen.

After while I realise I had better try and sleep, so I lie down on my bench seat, pull my fleece closer, shivering, and try and ignore the dire snoring 2 feet away. I lie there..I lie there, and just as I am dozing off, I am frightened by DC suddenly sitting up and shouting, B*ll*cks! My nerves are so shot to pieces at this point I panic, saying, now what's happened? He says, can you hear that? No, what? That, I don't believe it. What? I listen..there it is. A bird singing. A bird singing quite loudly (I couldn't hear it for the snoring...) DC is now annoyed, The bright lights in the service station have lulled the birdies into thinking it is morning, and they have started the dawn chorus at 2am. Never mind, I say, try and sleep. No, he says, F8ckit, I am wide awake now, I am driving home. Oh, ok then....

We climb back into the landy, he drives, and I immediately fall asleep again in the warm. It is a very slow, careful progress we make good job the roads are empty, and we crawl into St Albans at gone 3am. I make DC promise on his life not to go to NY at 6.30am, and I at last get into my house and go upstairs to bed, not worrying about waking C as he sleeps like a log and never hears me come in. However, my bedroom light is on. He is lying there, looking at me. What time do you call this, kind of comment....I say he told me he was not waiting up, so I didn't call, but I did point out if he was worried he could have called my mobile....

So as I got ready for bed, I told him the story, telling him how we stayed to eat when we hadn't planned to, then about the caravan not hitching, and half way through my interesting, detailed account, he suddenly got up and said, well yes, I'm tired, I need to sleep, I'll see you in the morning and decamped to his own room.

Oh. I thought it was a funny story. I'll save it and tell it to someone else...in fact, it is my blogger's duty... sorry it took so long...

And the next night.....

Yes, the next night was better, I slept well, the day went well, the evening was not so cold, and at the end of an eventful day, the call came that the kettle was on in a certain Mr & Mrs Safety's caravan. Now call me old fashioned, but a call to a freezing beer tent never did excite me, but an invite to a warm caravan for a cup of tea is much more my..well, you know....

So it's late, very late, but I am my old self, up for a bit of social intercourse (steady....) so we get to M and A's caravan, warm and toasty, and others are there, and the kettle has boiled, but they only have earl grey. Yuck. DC goes to our caravan and gets some tea bags.

He returns with the tea, and a bottle of whiskey or two..now how did that happen? Mr VL seems happy with this development, and soon tea is poured and whiskey is poured. I am happily sat with my mug of tea, and Mr VL gives me DC's glass of whiskey to pass to him.

********* Thinks.......

Well, I don't know how it happened, but there was this slight pause as I was about to pass the whiskey.....and at the same time as DC started to reach forward and go 'Noooooooooooooooooooo....' somehow I had knocked it back and it was all gone. Down my throat. In one go.

My, that was a f*cking big whiskey. For a start the taste was disgusting and made me fold up and kind of shiver and go 'Urrrrch'. Then my face got hot, then my ears got hot, and steam started coming out of them. ''What the....' said Mr M and Mrs A, cos they had not seen the like before.

David explained about the occasional urge which comes over me, a confirmed TT, to down a glass of whiskey..generally exceedingly good stuff, and generally his.

They timed me. Took about 11 minutes. First the smiling...non stop wide smiling....then the giggling....then the not being able to speak properly, followed by total collapse and giggling and general wobbliness..then I was asleep. Sound. I had to be woken up and led back to our caravan.

As I settled into bed, warm and cosy under my duvet and still smiling, DC appeared with glass of water and two nurofen, and made me drink it and take them. Then he tucked me in and wished me goodnight. And I swear, as he looked at me, he was laughing again.....

I promise..I won't do it again...until the next time...

Oh, I feel so guilty....

..because one or two things have happened to me, that at the time, made me think, I have to blog this, my readers would be cross if they knew..amusing things happening to Sally and she doesn't blog them? Who does she think she is???

So..back to the S*gar Hill Festival..Saturday night, DC are on walkabout, there is not much happening to be honest, it is 1am, official close down is 2am, but I am so tired, and not feeling too well, that I state my intention to go to bed, and not walk about until 2am for no reason. I just can't. 'That's ok,' says DC, 'I'll hand over to Nights, and we'll both turn in.' Fine. We go to Production, and Night Security meets us, and a long handover over nothing in particular takes place. I know it will be detailed, cos DC is sitting back in a chair, feet on the table, Very Relaxed.

I know I am over tired, and thus likely to get emotional.. Just as I think we might be heading off, a certain PA comes in, he of Production fame, and he and DC engage in more conversation. I have now been meaning to go to bed for over half an hour, and I have had it. 'I'm going to bed,' I say, and off I go, cold and very tired, and walk back to the caravan, pleased that I was Assertive, and Didn't Wait.

I get to the caravan, intent on bed and sleep. One problem...I don't have the key. My heart sinks. I make a phone call. 'Hello!' says a cheery voice, 'I have the key, don't I?' 'Yes,' I say wearily. 'I am walking back now.'

I know that means he hasn't left Production yet, and it is almost too much for me to wait in the cold and dark. I am too tired to live. I lean against the caravan, and decide to sink onto the step and wait. I slide down onto the step...and miss, collapsing in an undignified heap on the cold earth, half under the caravan. I hurt myself. Then I start crying, out of simple self pity.

When DC turns up with the key and tried to open the door, he can't find me. ''I'm here,' says a muffled sobbing voice, and he looks under the caravan to find me, and pull me up into safety. While I am crying, it is fair to say he is laughing..trying to be sympathetic, but finding the sobbing, 'I tried to sit on the step and missed,' a trifle amusing.....

Oh, my warm, cosy bed has never felt so good (well, not since the last festival......)

Oh, watch this, watch this.....

Go on the h*bit*t website and look at this..I think they call them 'vodcasts' which is a bit odd...choose Every Product Tells a Story, and look at the vodcast released today (1st October...) I don't know who the amazingly good looking, talented, young guy is, but oh my, his mother must be proud of him....