So. Here I am, glamping, in Wales, with the boys. Today, I am feeling happy and sunny and gay, because the sun has got his hat on and quite frankly, I'm in the most beautiful place in the world. But yesterday morning I was the gloomiest Eeyoriest parent from here to Birmingham, because it was drizzling, and cold, and I hadn't brought enough clothes, and the boys were bored, and I felt out of place on the campsite.
I still feel out of place. A bit. We are staying on the most amazing campsite, with fabulously friendly and informed owners. We are in a tipi (I know) and the other 8 pitches are a mix of bell tents, eco huts, 'stargazers' (no, I don't know either) and yurts.
Everyone else is from North London. They are all couples with young children. One of them told me yesterday that they don't have a telly (I hate this - why, if you feel this strongly, do you feel obliged to share it with the rest of us and make us feel like shit parents?). The adults are teachers, lecturers, Government advisors, PR agents. Or was that secret agents. I'm not sure. Their talk is all Primrose Hill, delis, The Guardian, vegetarian, organic, Blackberry. Now, I don't want to sound like I'm against this sort of thing - I'm a fan of a good Deli and I do attack The Guardian once in a while - but en masse, in a pack, and in their perfect 2.4 nuclear units, it's a bit unnerving for a single parent like me who actually, really does like a bit of crap telly.
The one shining light in the darkness was that, at 'Pizza making evening' yesterday (I know), one family had a huge bottle of Coke. This was the family who had no telly. And suddenly, all was forgiven.
The boys love it here. We did a bushcraft course on our first morning all about how to use knives. I almost had a stroke - I was so tense watching my youngest son with a nine tenth's sharp bush knife in his hand that I had to lie down all afternoon. My eldest son chops wood like the world is about to end. And we have just been body-boarding at one of the most gorgeous bays IN THE WORLD and, of course, bumped into a family we know from home.
One extremely lovely thing - a cat visits our tent, night or day - the rules are hers - and she lies on my youngest son's bed. They have built up quite a friendship, cat and boy. He will be sorry to leave her.
And here she is, in all her snugly glory.