Gardener and writer Debbie Webber recounts moments from her chaotic and busy life as the mother of five children ranging in ages from three up to thirteen in her regular columnThe Fab Five...
The mud has been scraped off our boots, the washing is mostly done and now all that is left is to glow in a post festival haze. We have, once again, entered the world of festivals.
They were not something that featured in my life pre-children and quite frankly I'm kicking myself. Why? Why didn't we go when we were young, free and vaguely solvent? And had a lot less stuff to cart about. Now I come to think of it, I really don't know what I did with all that spare time and money before the children came along.
It is, perhaps, best not to think about that too much and turn my thoughts instead to the wonderful weekend the Fab Five, plus ageing parents, have just enjoyed. It is better that way because with all this rain, I am certain to go mad. And there's still five weeks or so of the school holidays left.My dream is to go to two or three festivals in the summer, punctuated mid-way by a nice, quiet camping tip somewhere pretty. Well, as quiet as a camping trip with children can be.
Until that sunny day dawns, I will have to content myself with making plans for next year's return visit to Camp Bestival and checking the website for when the tickets go on sale.
Mr Fab and myself thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and the children seemed to, mostly. The portable loos, or the Plastic Ones as we named them, were a bit grim but the composting ones were great.
There was something for everyone and really, what's not to love at a festival? Ok, the toilets. And possibly the noise at night. But those problems are not insurmountable (compost loos and earplugs).
It is rather magical watching big and small fairies, Scooby Doo and circus animals drift past on a Sunday morning while you munch on some donutty delicacy dipped in melted chocolate.
I feel we've just spent three wonderful days on another, altogether nicer, friendlier and more creative planet and re-entry into the Land of Normality, complete with broken dishwasher, is proving quite tricky for me if not the children.
Still, I shall turn instead to my Festival Check-list and think about our fancy dress costume for next year. The children did look a bit horrified when we mentioned we would all be dressing up. But I like to think it's part of our job, as the children get older, to be a bit of an embarrassment.