The Camp

 When Martha and Evie were younger, their dad built a camp in the wood. He went to a lot of trouble with it, as the pictures show, and back then they used it a lot. But children grow up, and their own comfortable bedrooms are often more appealing than roughing it in the woods. Even though there would always be s’mores.

The camp still gets used, though. Some of our friends with young children spend the occasional night in the woods, and although Martha and Evie never go there now, we do have a regular pair who camp out at least twice a month. That would be Ben and Sara.

Those two love the camp. You would never think that they have their own comfortable home a couple of miles from here. They love listening to the birds and whatever other creatures might be about. I'm sure badgers and foxes must pass them by during the night. 

It hasn’t always been occupied by such wholesome campers. There were the 'hallions'. These guys were friends of Bert and Ben’s dad, and they used the camp on a couple of occasions. Dave was not pleased, for he felt the site had been disrespected. There might have been a broken beer bottle. Or two.

Our dogs love Sara and Ben’s camping nights best and will go out with them to help set up camp. Often, Bert will have to go and collect them around 10 or 11 pm, as we worry that they might, Jess especially, get disorientated in the dark.

It’s not just that they love Ben and Sara; they love campfire cooking too. For there are always sausages.

Jess has been a bit of a worry lately. At almost 14, she has been losing weight and becoming increasingly fussy about food, despite several visits to the vet and our efforts to tempt her with different things. So perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised by what happened last night.

She was discovered stealing the camper's chicken, carefully opening a packet of three, selecting one and wolfing it down raw.

No need for me to worry about her calorie intake last night. The old rascal is clearly taking matters into her own paws.

Yet I’ve never spent a night in the woods. I can’t imagine I’d be as comfortable there as I am in my own cosy bed, and the number of times I need to get up for a pee during the night would make it somewhat impractical. But I’m pleased that others enjoy it, and glad that it’s there for them. And whenever I see the camp being used and enjoyed, I remember that it’s all because of Dave that we have it.

And sometimes, in the morning,  Jess returns to the camp to see if there are any forgotten sausages. If not, she curls up in the tent for another sleep. Photo courtesy of Ben.

Hello, Goodbye

 

I’m aware that it’s been a while since I last posted to Nelly’s Garden. My excuse? I’ve said hello to the Norfolk branch of my family, then, six days later, goodbye. That goodbye was followed, a couple of hours later, by a hello to Vancouver Brother, who stayed for four nights before I had to say goodbye to him this morning. Then it was hello to my Ballymena family for half a day, followed by goodbye some six hours later.

Which leaves Nellybert all alone with the cats and dogs…

Oh! I forgot about the hens. I said hello to two new hens - the first fowl I’ve had for several years.

So, it’s been a rather busy few weeks of family hellos and goodbyes.

Saying hello. Their first evening in County Antrim. They are back in Norfolk now. I hope to get over there myself early next year.

Their mother and I managed a day to ouselves at the Fleadh Cheoil na hÉireann in Belfast . She worked the pint and I took the picture. We had the best time. Roll on 2027.

The brother and Zoe on Waterfoot Beach. I was sad to say goodbye to him this morning. He’s in London this evening with London Sister and Ganching, together to mark the first anniversary of Jonny’s death.

And as Vancouver Brother lost his partner at the beginning of July, there will be a lot of love and some sadness as they gather together tonight.

So many hellos and goodbyes in such a short space of time. Cherish your darlings.