Last week saw me rummaging through the house/garage/shed collecting together a host of items that had been collecting dust for the last 4 years, so that we could spend two nights in a field under a large piece of fabric. Some people call this a camping trip, I call it madness. I have a phobia of communal showers (have conquered the loo one since kids), would prefer a real bed and have a biological need of a fridge for the cider.
However, the weekend near Carsington Water in the Peak District was a great big success. The sun shone constantly, the 15 (yes count them, 15) children had a blast and the grown ups stayed up late under the stars (in puffa jackets) drinking tepid wine.
We had water fights