![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Billowing tents
Jul. 9th, 2012 09:55 amWe returned from the festival at 12.30 last night, having decided to demolish the tent before our bar shift, in order to avoid another night sleeping an entire Field of Squelch away from the toilets. Although the tent was dry, the weather was very windy, which was... interesting. The tent decided that its aim in life was to be a sail or maybe a balloon, rather than anything small enough to fit into a bag or even a car.
Pellinor hurled himself on the enormous billowing sphere, arms and legs splayed, and tried to beat it into submission by wallowing on it. Unfortunately, for all the parts of tent that decided to play good beneath his arms and torso, there was even more of it that rose up in great mushrooming growths between his legs, cackling in a billowy sort of fashion at his failure to notice it. Another camper wandered over to help, and proceeded to pummel all the billowing balloons that were emerging in Pellinor's wake, much to Pellinor's consternation. I suggested that we round up all the children on the site and charge them £1 for this exciting billowing bouncy castle experience, but Pellinor (while protecting sensitive parts from pounding fists and occasionally disappearing from sight completely beneath acres of bulging tent) claimed that he could wrestle it into submission alone.
Totally unrelated, I read this morning in the English Heritage magazine that Victoria and Albert liked to enjoy seaside trips when they were living at Osborne House, though without the "traditional kiss-me-quick accoutrements" that accompany British seaside holidays, such as ice cream stalls and warming cups of tea. I never realised that a warming cup of tea was a "kiss-me-quick" sort of thing. I feel quite faily now, having clearly spent my entire tea-drinking life entire missing the point.
Pellinor hurled himself on the enormous billowing sphere, arms and legs splayed, and tried to beat it into submission by wallowing on it. Unfortunately, for all the parts of tent that decided to play good beneath his arms and torso, there was even more of it that rose up in great mushrooming growths between his legs, cackling in a billowy sort of fashion at his failure to notice it. Another camper wandered over to help, and proceeded to pummel all the billowing balloons that were emerging in Pellinor's wake, much to Pellinor's consternation. I suggested that we round up all the children on the site and charge them £1 for this exciting billowing bouncy castle experience, but Pellinor (while protecting sensitive parts from pounding fists and occasionally disappearing from sight completely beneath acres of bulging tent) claimed that he could wrestle it into submission alone.
Totally unrelated, I read this morning in the English Heritage magazine that Victoria and Albert liked to enjoy seaside trips when they were living at Osborne House, though without the "traditional kiss-me-quick accoutrements" that accompany British seaside holidays, such as ice cream stalls and warming cups of tea. I never realised that a warming cup of tea was a "kiss-me-quick" sort of thing. I feel quite faily now, having clearly spent my entire tea-drinking life entire missing the point.
