Wednesday 21 July 2010

Latitudinous Joy

Man alive! All of a sudden, my sleepy life suddenly became not-so-sleepy.

Last week was full of house-hunting, house-finding, school-visiting, cheque-writing, train-journeying, staff-socialising, then LATITUDE! Wahoo!

We spent the weekend in a miniature tipi, clearly designed for a child shaped like a polo. Magically, we squeezed three twenty-something-year-olds around the central pole, contorting ourselves and our luggage around each other, putting any personal space inhibitions firmly outside the tent for two nights. Though our faces and feet layered upon each other, and if we so much as thought about moving, we would be rewarded with a shower of condensation from the non-fly-sheeted tent sides, and though our feet froze and our sides ached, we had fun.





In fact, we returned on the Friday night in fits of hysterics, which undoubtedly profoundly irritated a number of neighbouring tent-ers. (They paid us back, though. Not only by kicking a football against a fence at some unearthly o'clock, but also by cooking bacon right outside our nostrils, just as we were emerging damp-footed, sweat-drenched and famished in the early hours of Saturday...)











Leaky tents and bruised ribs aside, we had an exceptionally excellent time. We mostly perused the music venues, but also took a sneaky peek into the literature, poetry, comedy and theatre tents. I loved stumbling across the Love Triangles and the Day Like No Other postcards hidden in the forest.




All in all, I loved it.







And then this week has passed in something of a post-festival haze, what with non-uniform day on Monday (well done, SMT. Big mistake.) and two full days of off-timetable jollity. I have spent yesterday and today watching the kids play tennis, netball, volleyball and go swimming. I have also played approximately 300 minutes of badminton. I'd forgotten I enjoy badminton.

I've had to curb my competitivity (competitiveness?), though. Small children honestly don't deserve a shuttlecock to the stomach. Or a racket to the chin. Or... (I'd better stop, I'm giving myself ideas) But they played a good game, and I lost all vindictiveness and found myself thoroughly enjoying playing. Bravo, badders!

I now feel inspired and have of course decided to whip out the badminton net and rackets at home in m & d's garden as soon as I arrive on Friday. If we even have it anymore... Wait, did we ever have one?? Maybe it's a holiday I'm remembering. Or a childhood wish.

Anyway, I'm off tomorrow for various reasons. Which means... finito!! My time at the Toxic School is no more. Hurrah :-)



Excuse me while I do a little celebratory dance.




The end.

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