"I just don't like wearing clothes!"

Amongst all of madness that occurs here, it becomes easy to overlook the comparatively bland moments of simple kindness. Just the other day Rachel said to me, "You know, K? If you ever lose your ear in an industrial accident, then I'll make you a new one out of bacon. And that's a promise."  She also presented me with a small red balloon, which she told me was similar to the colour of Julia's face after 7 hours of walking without suncream on (in temperatures pushing 30°C). 

The promise of a new ear kept coming to me as a reassuring thought whilst Fiona was cutting my hair. We weren't able to offer Mick much reassurance though when he stumbled across us sat by the stream performing what he thought was some odd pagan ritual. I think it was the moment when Fiona filled her hands with water and tipped it over my head that probably scared him the most. He later asked me what Fiona had been chanting, to which I replied, "erm, I think that was just her talking normally?!"  

Much earlier on that morning there was the most incredible thunderstorm. You hear it, and could hear it for what seemed like minutes after as it echoed along the entire valley searching for an escape. I imagined it, at the moment that it finally faded, pouring itself headlong into the sea at Ravenglass. The ocean was surely the only thing that could dampen it. And then there was the rain, at times so heavy it made me wonder if there could be any room left for the air. (My thoughts can get a little bit like that sometimes). I love thunderstorms, for what they are and for the moments after when everything feels so fresh and calm. 

With the summer holidays upon us, everywhere is noticeably busier. There are, however, still places to go where there is quiet, and no one else around. Mick told me of one such location, and on a free afternoon I found myself alone at a lily covered tarn. For obvious reasons I will not give too much away, save to say that it was beautiful (and would have appeared more so had I been feeling more beautiful inside). I went for a coffee afterwards, and sat there listening to a man rave on and on about mayonnaise. 

I think it must be the hot weather, and perhaps also the recent full moon. Partial Nudity Week does not seem to be dying a death anytime soon. Rachel walked in on a man getting changed in the laundry room. He said he couldn't find anywhere else - despite the next door along being a lockable washroom. Then Fiona, upon finishing work, announced that she was going to take off more layers. "It's not that I'm an exhibitionist, I just don't like wearing clothes."