Saturday, May 28, 2011

Day 2 - Wet Picnics Are Cool

Right... next time I have any sort of money I will be investing in thermals. Thermal pants, thermal earrings, thermal nosebag, thermal socks, thermal everything. I may even thermulate myself. Permanently. It'll be like laminating except that I'll use asbestos for good measure.

I woke up this morning feeling like dirty roadkill. I was in a tent, wearing a lot of Dad's clothing to keep warm and staring into the face of a more than disgruntled sister. It turns out I'm a night puncher. I had slept like a log... she had spent 6 hours evading my flailing limbs as I made her endure a human fist based gauntlet of panicky sibling sleep.

It's now early evening and she looks a little like she's forgiven me. But this may be only because we've just had a nap together on the sofa in a sort of Forrest-Bubba scenario keeping our heads from smacking the arm of the chair.

So far today has consisted of an excellent walk around an old school National Trust garden, a few hangovers being nursed, a 2 year old playing piano unfathomably loudly, and an epic picnic that could have fed an entire Viking clan. Instead it fed my clan. And we all looked a little uncomfortable on the rest of our walk round Dorset.

There were big expectations for last night and it didn't fail. There's nothing quite like 16 freezing relations sitting drinking unidentified cider type liquid around a chimenea at 1 o clock in the morning. Every conversation had three people mishear certain elements to comic effect midway through.

This evening is set to be a little more heavy on the alcohol. I've already heard jaeger and mojitos in the same sing song sentence which neither my mind nor my liver were thrilled with. I'm lining my stomach with red wine at the moment to just make sure I can handle it. There may be a flaw in my logic somewhere...

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