Scenes!

I hadn't been in work long, and not yet being entirely awake it took me a few moments to realise that Rachel was trying to tell me something about bumble bees and icing sugar. ".......and there are these parasites, which would be like having a brown crab stuck in your leg." That was too much for me, I had to ask Rachel if I was hallucinating, or hopefully still dreaming. But I was doing neither, apparently. Rachel assured me that she had been awake for several hours, was in her right mind, and knew exactly what she was talking about. I could do little else but frown, and put another coffee on. I can't say that things improved at breakfast - Fiona was now busy talking about how much she'd like a wax work of an 1981 Adam Ant in her room. Some sense finally returned when Rachel had this amazing idea - she would contact both Chris de Burgh and Rod Stewart to tell them that the other was coming to Eskdale to join our band. What could possibly go wrong? I really did expect the pair of them to turn up the very next day. But instead all we got was Iain (running school group activities for the week) singing one of C de B's less well known songs to me. Iain, it turns out, is also a big fan. But Rachel and Fiona were more sceptical about this than me, "K, he probably got dragged along to those concerts by slightly crazy ex. Or, he's just taking the piss out of you." I don't really understand how either of those suggestions could possibly be true (haters are going to hate). 

On Friday afternoon we had an intruder at the hostel. I was doing a spot of washing up when I heard someone/something trying to get through the kitchen door. Not being able to see anything at the window, I was momentarily perplexed. But a whining sound from outside, accompanied by a quick glance at the CCTV solved the mystery. Woolly, the Woolpack Inn's dog, had evidently decided to take a wee wander up the road. I took Woolly outside, and reluctantly rung up the Woolpack to let them know (I would have quite happily spent the rest of the afternoon in the sunshine playing with the dog). Apparently she had been in a sulk because Harry was away! 

I had a rare Saturday off work, and made plans to meet up with my friends Kath, H, and their two boys. I set off for Keswick giving me what I thought would be plenty of time, but I hadn't even got out of Eskdale before I began to doubt this. First of all I saw Tom-Tom & Evie driving the other way, so we stopped for a chat (which was basically Tom-Tom being sat in the middle of what would otherwise have been a most pleasant conversation!). I then found myself driving behind a coach which had a minor collision with an oncoming car. Disproportionate chaos followed, with no one being able to pass, the coach passengers getting out to look, and the car driver getting more and more irate. A small queue of vehicles soon developed, and drivers started getting out of their cars to ask what was going on. One of these was Paddington (from the Woolpack) who marched up the road wearing a bright pink tutu with matching face paint (as if it was the most normal thing in the world), and told them in no uncertain terms to hurry up and move out of the way. Just your average Saturday morning scenes in Eskdale.  

Keswick was a different kind of crazy.  Kath & H for one thing, but just the sheer number of people about. The plan had been to walk up Catbells, but by the time we'd had coffee (or had the piss taken out of you for drinking peppermint tea), & H had categorically stated that she would not be rushed into buying a pair of welly socks which she didn't like the colour of, there were no parking spaces to be found. This was despite Kath's best hopes and efforts - "ooo do you think I can get in there?" I still can't work out which 'space' she was referring to. In the end we decided to go back to town, and go for a wander along the lake. H seemed pretty upset that Kath wouldn't let her buy some duck food (I think she was asking for herself and not the kids), but things like that are soon forgotten on such a beautiful day. It all worked out kinda perfectly in the end, and we even got to witness the phenomenon that is H skimming stones. She had one really lucky go (which only I saw), and after that announced loudly that everyone had to watch and she would show us all how it's done. But the pressure of the situation must have got to her - the stone barely made the water, and the only 'skimming' that occurred was thanks to it hitting the bottom and bouncing up again. Skills. Discounting their suggestion that I try on some utterly stylish (if you happen to be 95, & perhaps not even then) grey shoes from Keswick market just so they could have somewhere to sit down to eat their chips, it was a fantastic day. Thanks.