CAMPING....Our First Adventure! For #OutwellMoments
Last week, we as a family encountered our first camping holiday..first stop was tropical Essex and second stop was sunny Cornwall, Boobys Bay to be exact!
Willie Wastle was a poem by Robert Burns. She was an old harradan by all accounts but this is my response to that poem but from the eyes of his wife and her reasons for being so. Try to not judge until you walk in their shoes.
Last week, we as a family encountered our first camping holiday..first stop was tropical Essex and second stop was sunny Cornwall, Boobys Bay to be exact!
Here is my photo blog of our premier camping trip...will we go again? Read on and decide for yourselves!!
ESSEX....our tent we lovingly named Dave....
We're so new to this we don't even own a table..bare bones camping here.
Do I long for 5 star luxury? A spa? Sunny sunbed sipping sangria poured by a fella called Miguel with a very pert Spanish bum? Er...yes.
Onwards and upwards..let's hear it for sunny Essex, at least it didn't rain but I did get bitten to death because our tent sat right by a stagnant pond that was home to various flying critters with large teeth. Oh the glamour....
OUR FIRST AL FRESCO MEAL...Jamie Oliver needn't worry...
Our premier outdoor dining experience was held on my portable BBQ and cremated sausages in dry buns were our yummy menu....thank god for the cider which aided tremendously...
ENTERTAINMENT TIME
After the fun of putting up the tent and digesting the blackened sausages we were so overwhelmed with joy in our hearts that we cracked open the cards and played Kings In The Corners for two whole hours..we had to do this inside the tent because I was cold. Who needs Volleyball in a warm Cyprus pool when this is on offer?
THE GLORIOUS SUNSHINE OF FRINTON ON SEA..
After much merriment of the first day, we visited the tropical delights of Frinton which was absolutely packed with sun worshippers, unfortunately I forgot my bikini which I most definitely would've worn....
NEXT STOP, BOOBYS BAY IN CORNWALL
The joy of camping was in full swing at this point so we plodded on to our next destination....
OUR NEW CAMPING EQUIPMENT....
We invested in some brand new equipment consisting of rock hard camping pillows that were as comfortable as dozing on big stones and a brilliant water carrier that leaked every time we poured a glass of water...all happily purchased from the pound shop! Every little helps......
A NEW CAMPING TOY....GAS!!!
After the Michelin starred sausage meal, our friendly camping neighbour offered us his camping stove to borrow seeing as he thought we were camping peasants who had no decent equipment, so we enjoyed some lovely fried bacon that wasn't black at all and quite edible.. This part was a lot of fun and went down very well thank you to our kind neighbour...campers really do help each other out!
AND FINALLY.....
Look people, the sun made an appearance in Cornwall and we were still smiling.
Ok, camping isn't glamorous, I got bitten, my back was aching and I suffered an embarrassing windy episode in front of an audience in a public toilet but overall we were still smiling and hadn't killed each other in rage.....will we go again?
Only if we get a new table....and pillows.
Willie Wastle was a poem by Robert Burns. She was an old harradan by all accounts but this is my response to that poem but from the eyes of his wife and her reasons for being so. Try to not judge until you walk in their shoes.
Willie Wastle’s Wife
Oh Willie yes I’m dour and din
Is it any wonder?
I look upon your face of sin,
And I begin to chunder.
You may not give a button for me,
Disdain you do instill.
I’d keep your buttons handy boy,
Your chest’ll feel the chill.
A little like the cat I look
Well maybe that is true.
Yes the pegs are rustin’ up
But boy how they can chew!
Linkumdoddie, a joyous place
Home to many fair dollies.
But are the fairest maidens willing
To scrub your dirty trollies?
My fuzz is bushy and most unpleasant
Me limp is not so fine.
But lack of love could possibly be
The reason of decline.
Me clapper tongue, the only bit
That seems to work so well.
The only weapon I need to use
To send you straight to Hell.
Meself reads like an austere, grim and stark old grisly crone.
But love beats all the outer mess,
Now get yourself back home...
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I recently lost two stone in weight after having been overweight for most of my adult life. I was trying to sum up into words how I did it and how it made me feel but I couldn’t . So I composed these feelings into a poem.
No Chips For Tea
Tried the shakes and tried the Atkins, nothing worked you see,
The problem I discovered was the problem lied with me.
Spent many years dressed in a tent to cover up the bulk,
When dressed in my green rain mac I looked like the Incredible Hulk!
Put a cheery smile on and looked happy all these years,
But behind closed doors, when no one’s there, I couldn’t stop the tears.
Little changes day to day I discovered was the key,
Cut out the bread and alcohol and yes, no chips for tea.
In the past I always ate until my plate was empty,
Now I’ve discovered portion control and still I’m eating plenty.
A Flora Pro-Activ mini drink for breakfast now is right,
Gone is the time I’d start the day with cold korma from last night.
Tasty recipes in Vitality mag we sometimes have for dinner,
Don’t always omit the gooey treats, I’m a sinner getting thinner.
A bit of this and a bit of that, don’t feel like I’m denied,
If I’m happy then I smile and then I’m happier inside.
Running around at my tennis club in a sexy little number,
Now proud to show my new shape off, not hide my thighs of thunder.
Don’t use my car if I can walk, every little helps,
Upped the swimming I swear next year I’ll be beating Michael Phelps!
Two stone less and feeling fab, through the clothes rails I do delve,
Select a dress that’s not a smock and Oh my God, a size twelve!!!!!
So there you go, no fads, no tears, no denial and no expense,
Diets they just don’t exist, it’s purely common sense!
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A Breakfast Ode...
It's 7am, the wife is up, amazing how early she wakes. Her cookings bad and all I get is a bowl of old soggy cornflakes! She doesn't mind, I say 'be kind and bring a bowl of Jordans to me' 'with cold milk that, wasn't licked by the cat and a steaming hot cup of good tea!' Breakfast in bed and a pillow for my head plus a soothing massage from the missus. Her luck is in, I might give in with a few little thankyou kisses! d'ya think she'd object if i asked her to serve me my brekkie dressed up in suspenders? THAT would brighten the morning up, though she'd rather watch Eastenders! Country Crisp and a smile from her would really be a delight, but served by her in her frilly pants would make anyone's breakfast bright!!
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Awakenings
As I glanced through a slightly vaccuous, poncey magazine with no great expectations of enlightenment or life changing advice, I was suddenly reading your thoroughly emotive piece ,’Is It Time To Start Thinking About Our Drinking?’ Well, regretfully, I informed myself, indeed it was, yes.
Being in my 30's, with two small children, a busy household and an attentive but weak willed partner, I felt quite secure in myself and the decisions I take in regard to my alcohol consumption. When on reading the article, with particular reference to ‘The Middle Class Binge Drinker’ I unwillingly bore an uncanny alliance with her, much to my dismay.
Monday-Had a hard day? Pour some wine...
Tuesday-Did all the shopping, need a treat...have a large vodka...
Wednesday-Taxi service mother needs a break...half a bottle of wine, gone before 6 o’clock, haven’t even made the dinner and then I go and slice my finger open julienning the sodding carrots!!! Should’ve bought them pre-sliced.
All too familiar, I was in denial, as Gill Sutherland was but there is a comfort in knowing it’s not just you. I was awakened by your piece and had a clarity of thought thrust upon me which yes, can be painful, but honest.
Interesting to have three different types of women and the effect alcohol brings upon them. I was saddened, humoured, educated but above all sledgehammered.
I’m striving to lessen my intake, it’s not easy but I will continue. The knowledge that I am one of many I find upsetting but there’s safety in numbers, it’s not just me.
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If This Was My Final Day
If this was my one final day on this Earth,
I’d hop into a time machine
And go back to my birth.
I’d see both my parents so fresh and so young,
I’d see how my wonderful life had begun.
Could relive my childhood and play in the sun,
Idyllic, hot summers of endless fun!
Advise that spotty,tall youth with long hair,
70’s flared trousers, ohmigod...nightmare!!!
I could meet once again the love of my life,
But this time I really could make her my wife.
Relax on our mountain, in pure sunshine
We’d eat fresh scallops and down white wine!
And see once more my children at birth,
Oh yes, how divine is my home, this earth.
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Family Memory
Taking part in London’s Sky Ride recently was amazing.Being a fun loving,energetic family we adore biking and were thrilled to be able to see up close all the iconic London landmarks from our two wheels.Even peered through Buckingham Palace windows to see if Queenie was washing her hair!
We had a wonderful family day out at London's Sky ride.
We are an enthusiastic and energetic family of four, I'm not in the first photo because I took it!!
Children are Ashley aged 10 and Jasmine aged 6, my other half is Carsten aged ??
We had an amazing day at the Sky Ride because it was lovely to cycle around so freely through a place where usually there is so much congestion and noise and pollution etc.I think it made us all as a family appreciate again this wonderful city we live in.
I would normally feel too afraid to let my children cycle through that part of London with the fear of traffic etc so to be able to let them do this was a lovely feeling for me as well as them. Best bit was zooming through one of the tunnels and being allowed to scream and shout as loud as we could!! My God, that was fun.
We would all absolutely love to go to Disney because theres no way we could ever afford it and my children,especially Jasmine, loves Disney films and would be enchanted by seeing all the figures standing before her, that would be a memory that would never be forgotten and such a magical encounter for them.
Our last two annual holidays have just been in England, much as I love Dorset and Cornwall, it rained and we came back with soggy wellies and runny noses!
We even attempted bike riding in the New Forest in August but guess what?? It rained so we just ended up in the pub by the fire. God bless the British summer!!
My Goal
My goal is to live more, come out of the shade,
To look life in the face and shout,’I’m not afraid’
Brave and decisive, happy and free,
Never again will I let my own self defeat me
The biggest challenge I face is to come out of myself.
Dust off those old cobwebs, get down from that shelf.
The goal is to live more and come out of the shade,
Look life dead in the eye and shout,’ I’m not afraid’
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Summer to me is to simply slow down,
Roll up my sleeves and lessen that frown.
Recline in my garden and take a short nap,
Prawns on the barbie and Scrumpy on tap.
Summer to me breaks the cold Winter’s chains,
Idyllically calm where tranquillity reigns.
People get kinder and anger subsides,
There’s a magical remedy that Summer provides.
Memories are made when the sun pours his rays,
His radial warmth creates Halcyon days...
The Ride
Alton towers
Th13teen for me, ultimately,
Chilling dark woodland that might defeat me.
With demon’s lungs it breathes ,it lives,
Need to experience the terror it gives.
Venture the pit of the forest’s deep womb
A macabre repulsion may seal my doom?
Juicy Couture Bag
Can I please have your attention
and some help from him above.
There’s a gorgeous stunning bag I’ve seen
That I really really love!
It’s comes from Harvey Nics
And it’s the deepest, pinkest pink.
Everytime I window shop
My little heart does sink!
My children they come first you see
Like swimming, cubs and dancing.
Priorities are them, not me,
Their lives I am enhancing.
I wash and cook and clean and care
Do the best that I can muster.
I keep the homestead spick and span
With my power feather duster!
My last bag cost but not a lot
At fifteen quid, a snip.
It was OK, until the day
I broke the bloomin’ zip!
I tied it up with nappy pins
But never did I moan.
But then it rained, inside got wet
And soaked my mobile phone!
So anyway, this charming bag,
To me is a lot of money.
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My Fabulous Thing
I love my shiny camera, it’s always a sure bet.
It stores up all my memories, I’d otherwise forget.
I’ll snap away at sunsets, a passing funny clown,
A single sparrow on a branch and pictures of my town.
A firework explosion, the children on the swings.
Pictures of my life and loves and all the joy it brings.!
‘Quick, there’s David Beckham, he’s shopping with his son!’
Oh no it’s Peter Andre, let’s not bother with that one.
A beautiful bright rainbow or a sparkly river stream.
A heat wave or a snowstorm, I’ll record the happy scene.
If my camera ever left me, I’d kick up quite a fuss.
In the words of Revell -Horwood, ‘My camera’s fab-u-lous!!!
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Something about my son...
ASHLEY P. MAY ONLY BE THREE
Ashley P. may only be three
But he’s a better chef than I’ll ever be.
His enthusiasm in the kitchen is second to none
We laugh out loud and have so much fun.
He’ll measure and pour,he’ll sift and stir
He’s an honest taster and sometimes goes UGH!
We love making pancakes all sweet and yummy
He’ll squeeze on the lemon or maybe the honey.
While we bake we sing a song
He ends up giggling even if it goes wrong!
‘Ashley’ says mummy ‘We’ve pastry to roll ! ’
‘Oh leave off mum, I’m licking the bowl ! ’
ASHLEY P. MAY ONLY BE FIVE
Ashley P. may only be five,
But he can sing and dance,
And jump and jive.
He can think himself as tall as a tree,
As fierce as a lion ,
As small as a flea.
He’s funny and friendly,
Chatty and bright.
Just like a candle he’ll light up the night.
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Things I'd Like
My drainpipes in the eighties,yes they looked alright.
Now I’m 2 stone heavier, I look a bloomin’ sight!
My trousers have got holes and my shirts are very ugly,
I need some brand new gear to make my woman love me....
I’ve lost the weight and feeling great, happiness I’ve found.
Problem is the jeans I have they just keep falling down.
My pants are hanging off and looking rather baggy,
Need new kecks to cover up a bum that’s rather saggy!
I used to love our video, did wonders for our soul,
That was until the day my kids stuffed pop tarts in the hole!
I shed a tear, cos now I fear,
We’ve nothing to see, ‘cept what’s on T.V!
My bag cost 15 quid-a snip!
It was ok until the day, I broke the bloomin’ zip.
I tied it back with nappy pins- I didn’t moan,
Then it rained, it got all wet and soaked my mobile phone!!
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If I Had a Posh Camera...
The thing that I would love to film is the season we call Spring.
It makes me smile when hope appears and all the joy it brings.
My garden is my haven where I grow my scrumptious fare,
Endless onions, spuds and toms, a crop we all do share.
I'd film the bees who buzz into my sweet old flowers of passion,
Don't care if dirt's not seen as hip, I've never followed fashion.!
My daughter Jasmine catching butterflies in her homemade net,
Filling her with childhood memories, never to forget.
Her brother Ashley kicks his ball, he thinks he's the bees knees,
I don't mind a bit of that, but mind my bloomin' peas!!
Sunrays pour themselves over my berries to make them plump and fat,
Careful that the birds don't get them, where did I put the cat??
So my garden in it's bloom would be the thing that I would capture...
Experiencing nature that's all mine, in a perfect rapture
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Dads
On the barbie my dad is the best,
He cooks in his old string vest.
He cremates the bacon
Not wearing an apron
And singes the hairs on his chest!
Watching him cook is such fun,
His burger I eat with my bun.
He sings while he sizzles
the flames they all fizzle
It’s lucky we like them well done!
Our summer is never complete,
Until dad starts to burn all the meat.
He gets lots of flack
cos his bangers are black
But my dad is the best and so NEAT!!!
My Garden
When your garden is lovely, there’s no need to move,
And this is how mine could be greatly improved.
Rich, fertile soil is all that it needs,
To feed all my flowers and cover the weeds.
Replace the old fencing that’s gonna fall down,
Paint it ‘Sherwood Green’ not manky old brown.
A big water butt to catch all the rain,
My old one it leaks, I shouldn’t complain.
Spruce up my patio with pots that aren’t plastic,
Those terracotta beauties make your blooms look fantastic.
Lastly my favourite Wisteria I’d plant,
It’s adornment of violet never fails to enchant.
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Conservatory
Our modest little dwelling house we really do but cherish,
Yet the enhancement of a conservatory space would complement our terrace.
Our humble garden tended fine, our cosy pleasure ground,
Would love a reposeful, relaxing domain to view it all year round.
Thirty years of constant toil our meagre space has had,
So a touch of Regency elegance and grandeur would make old Grandad glad!
A sunny morning, sitting inside, sipping tea from a Doulton cup,
But it’s Grandma’s naked yoga session that would wake the neighbours up!!
(and bump the value up...possibly not)_____________________________________________________________________
A Big Old Softie
To the biggest softie in the world,
Whose name is Carsten Price.
Although he stinks the bathroom out
He’s actually quite nice.
When we first met years ago
He looked a bit of a plum,
Funny glasses rubbish hair
But quite a perky bum.
He buys me perfume, chocs galore
And showers me with kisses.
And if I’m lucky one day
Maybe I will be his Mrs!
Twelve years in we have two kids
A girl and boy so sweet.
Although they drive us round the bend
They make our life complete.
He takes great care of all of us
He’s the last one on the list.
So occasionally I take him out
And get him very.....drunk.
So Carsten Price my Valentine
Is this what they call love?
If it is then you and I
We fit like hand and glove.......
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