Yesterday, I got to have a bit of a break from barn living and headed off for a day of weaving. The day started off rainy and dull, so unfortunately I couldn’t carry out one of my recently discovered new pleasures, digging out some old CDs, winding down the car windows and singing at the top of my voice as I drive along, though the CDs still went on, the screeching was just saved for my ears and not every cow, sheep and farmer that I passed.
I managed to get to the Eden Workshop, where the course was running, without even getting lost. The courses are quite small, with only 6 of us in the group, plus the tutor, and we were quickly set loose on the looms. I was pleasantly surprised at how zen I found weaving, and also how quickly I managed to get my head around it. After a short time I was weaving herringbone tweed like a dervish, playing with the patterns and experimenting with different colours. It was a jolly nice way to spend a day, particularly as a three course lunch was also provided – which makes a huge difference to the usual lunchtime rigmarole at home: children being attacked by chickens; children refusing to eat; children deciding that as soon as my bum hits the seat to start eating, is the EXACT moment they really, must definitely, have a poo. At the end of the day I got to take my fabric home and show it off to J and the kids, who were all suitably impressed, in fact the girl’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, so great did she find its beauty.
The culture didn’t end there, as today we went to a friend’s studio opening. Admittedly I spent more time catching up with my friend than taking in the art work, but still, just being in an art studio makes one cultured by osmosis, doesn’t it? The studio also has access to a particularly glorious garden, which we all enjoyed exploring, though I admit I did have a petulant strop when I wanted to take pictures of the kids on a bench, then pictures of the kids and J on the bench, “Wouldn’t it be nice to have one of me and kids” I thought. The camera was duly handed over to J, and the kids duly ran off to J, refusing to be caught on camera with me. I did not take this well. Although my mood was improved when crossing some stepping stones (also in the amazing garden), I ‘accidentally’ dipped the girl into the river, rather than carefully placing her on the next stone as I’d intended. Fortunately she wasn’t too upset by her soggy feet, and the whole episode brought a smile back to my grumpy face.
Then this afternoon, the boy decided it was time for a major meltdown. The village was having a bike ride followed by BBQ, we were going to miss the ride bit but were aiming to make the BBQ. To say the boy was not happy about our plans was an understatement. He wanted to ride his bike. We explained there wouldn’t be time, the route was too long for him, his friends were going to be at the BBQ. Not anywhere near good enough, he wanted to take his bike. There was stropping, and hiding and refusing to budge, to the extent that the girl and I were going to leave the boys at home and just go on our own. This changed his mind and he finally got in the car, but not without a few more screams reminiscent of the great “Stick-ey” debacle. Thankfully though, there were plenty of people at the BBQ, and again plenty of places to explore, newts and tadpoles to spot, to keep him occupied and detract from how very cruel his parents are.
And now we are in the glorious hours during which the children sleep, wine has been poured (stocks of alcohol have been partially replenished) and there are a whole host of programmes to catch up on, and fall asleep in front of. There is only one more day of half term to endure…ahem…enjoy, although it should be a good one, as tomorrow is shearing day, during which I will no doubt mainly be occupied trying to stop the girl eating sheep poo and getting shouted at by the farmer for not folding fleeces properly. Whoever said that country life was dull??