This morning I put a torch in the washing machine. I was just finally getting around to doing the last of our dirty washing from our camping trip last weekend and when I heard the clunking, my first thought was that one of us might have picked a pebble up off the beach and left it in a pocket. When I got to the machine though, I could see the end of our torch whizzing around in circles between the clothes, loudly hitting the outside of the machine every now and again.
I hit the pause button immediately, but even with the machine on pause, the door didn’t open. Next thing I know, I’m on the phone to my Dad, we’re both reading the machine’s manual online and we’re coming to the conclusion that we’re just going to have to let the machine run until the first cycle is over and it can drain. At one point, the water triggered the switch on the torch and the light came on, so that I could see it whizzing around even clearer than before, like a menacing under water disco light. Eventually the cycle ended, the water drained, I hit pause and thankfully, I was able to open the door and retrieve the torch. Now just to figure out how to safely dispose of it, given it will most likely never be safe to use again.
Luckily, packing for camping went much better than unpacking has. Between us, we really had thought of everything. We filled the car with shoes, canvas bags, portable chargers, towels, snacks, clothes, jackets, sleeping bags, duvets, yoga mats and blankets and off we went. We’d been invited to a join family on a camp site in Dartmouth for a weekend of 60th birthday celebrations and we had such a good time.
From the moment we arrived, I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders. I always love being by the sea and Dartmouth is a particularly lovely seaside town. We enjoyed ice cream and fish and chips galore. We walked up and down a pebbled beach with the happiest of dogs in tow. We went and explored Agatha Christie’s holiday home and I got to play her grand piano!
Perhaps unsurprisingly, given we were camping in England in September, we dealt with sunshine, rain, wind and cold and yet we made the best of things. When some noisy sheep disrupted our sleep on night one, we left the tent to head to the campsite toilets only to look up and see a deep, dark, beautiful sky full of stars. When we got caught out in the rain on day two, I found myself smiling hugely making my way down a footpath with my backpack on and brolly held high, reminded of rainy, English childhood holidays. And when the wind hammered on the side of the biggest tent on day three, I felt cosier than ever sat in a deck chair, sipping red wine and playing card games.
All of that said, we returned home more grateful than ever for our bed and our super cosy sofa. And now it’s hard to believe a whole ‘nother week has gone by. In spite of lack of sleep, camping did leave me feeling refreshed and I found myself back at work with a fresh perspective this week. I took it in my stride a little more and was more productive as a result.
On Thursday, I was out and about in London and was reminded just how much I love the city. Yesterday, my best friend and I were at Welwyn Garden City’s world food fest, enjoying everything from South African to Greek. And today? Today’s a chill day and I find myself feeling tired, but grateful. There’s so much to love about this little life of mine. We’re very quickly headed for my favourite time of year and I’m determined to make the most of it.
Blogging Goodbye to Butterflies 