Having woken up somewhere in Wales we thought that we might go and see Mark’s family.
Mark has a mother and a collection of sisters. We know that his mother, and two of his sisters, live somewhere in Wales, but not where.
We tried to telephone them, optimistically, but either they were not answering or they have changed their phone numbers. It is a long time since we have spoken to them and we did not know which it was. We tried every way we could think of to contact them, but we did not know any of their addresses, and to be frank, we were not even entirely certain of their names. They have become married, and also unmarried, and it all turned out to be far too problematic to be resolved.
We have not seen them for a very long time, and it looked rather like this state of affairs is likely to continue.
We gave up in the end, and started on the long journey home.
Wales is a long way from our house, especially if you are travelling in the camper van. The camper van does not go very quickly.
This did not matter because of the CD with the story. We listened to battles and dragons and glory and horrible murder with the greatest of relish, and in the end the miles passed quickly, helped along by some Welsh sugary things purchased at a service station.
We stopped when we had almost reached Cumbria, to consider our next move.
I did not in the least want to go home. This was not because there was anything actually the matter with our house. It is a very nice house, and I like the washing machine and the electric mixer very much indeed.
The truth was that I did not want to go back to doing the things that I am supposed to do instead of just the things that I like, and as it happened that issue was resolved by Elspeth sending me a message at that very moment, inviting us to come and drink too much and celebrate May Day.
May Day is called Beltane if you are mystically inclined, and is a traditional time for the nature worshippers of the world to dance about without their clothes on and then do sex in the garden. I know that Elspeth does not generally do any of these things, and so I was quite happy to accept. May Day is the sort of time when you might want to be cautious about which invitations you are prepared to take up. Obviously it is now too late for this year, it is next year now before you need to worry about it.
Fortunately you will be in less danger next year than you were this year. I have found as I have got older that invitations to take all of my clothes off and dance about the garden have come less and less frequently. I have never been very enthusiastic about this anyway. The Lake District is not warm, and there are too many stinging nettles.
In the circumstances we thought that going to see Elspeth would be a splendid thing to do, and so we popped home to shout at the children who were playing in the alley, refilled the water, and came out again.
We are here now. We have done the drinking bit, and in fact have finished up in Elspeth’s garden. I am pleased to report that we are in the camper van, not cavorting paganistically amongst the flora.
My eyes are closing and I am finding it difficult to write. It has been a lovely evening, and I think we have celebrated May Day as thoroughly as anybody in their fifties needs to.
I am going to go to bed now.
Sorry about the picture. I haven’t taken one, and this one has been lurking about in my picture store, as a rubbish picture for an emergency, which this is.
Think of it as mystical earth lore greenery.
