It's a sad indictment of our summer thus far that waking up this morning to wall-to-wall sunshine should be such a rare treat. Not only is the sun shining fit to bust today, but apparently it will continue to do so for the rest of this week, hence our last minute decision to indulge in some impromptu camping for a few days.
Such is the devil-may-care life of the self-employed artisan *cough.... yeah right!*
However, just so my guilt chip doesn't go into overdrive, I'm taking some work with me. Whether or not any of it gets done remains to be seen but should the overwhelming desire to review this month's invoices, work on the 'currently in production' new kit instructions, forward planning lists etc, prove too much for me, I will be able to give in gracefully.
Just finishing packing the last few bits and pieces which is being made exponentially more difficult by the fact that every time the front door is open, Small Dog races out, makes a beeline for the caravan and leaps in, settling herself at the furthermost point at the front of the 'van. This point is, of course, incredibly difficult to reach, being hemmed in by chairs, BBQ, windbreak, wine cellar box etc so I have to clamber over a mountain of stuff to reach her, while she feigns deafness and pretends not to hear me calling her out. I must have brought her back indoors half a dozen times this morning and my patience is wearing thin.
Both car and caravan are packed to the gunnels and I am supremely confident that we will be both drought AND famine resistant at least for the next few days. Having had the foresight to chill the fridge down overnight, we will arrive on site with ice cold beers to hand, ready for the rigours of erecting the awning, which is a prime spectator sport for fellow caravanners. To be brutally honest, if putting up a caravan awning were an Olympic sport we'd be unlikely to be selected for Team GB but we do like to enter into the spirit of the thing..... it's not the winning it's the taking part that counts.
Small Dog will oversee proceedings from the shady comfort of her camping chair, alternately pretending she doesn't know us and frequently raising her small, furry eyebrows at our ineptitude.
With luck, by mid-afternoon, we'll be all set up, awning in situ, BBQ at the ready, cold beer in hand, stretched out recliners soaking up the sun watching the world go by.
Sometimes, in the moment, life doesn't get any better than that.....