Seventy One

I'm at home today. All day. Whilst Harry the boiler man rips my kitchen apart and attacks my ancient (not in a good, retro or vintage way just old and knackered) central heating system. There seems to be a lot of 'hitting things hard with a hammer' going on.

Daughter number one recovered quickly once she had the right antibiotics. She eased into her week at Theatre school in Tunbridge Wells with a couple of half days before managing to stay for the full stretch. The week culminated in the production of 'Wind in the Willows'  in the Trinity Theatre on the Friday. My husband celebrated the day with a nasty skateboarding accident. I refused to spend another minute in the hospital there and dropped him at A&E. I couldn't leave fast enough.

I collected him hours later, just in time for the show, with a fractured wrist and a pair of crutches (a painful combination) Luckily the fractured bone was one of the little ones so he didn't need a cast. The show was fantastic and we were very proud parents.

On the 20th August we collected our caravan from Kent and headed to Shambala Festival. This wasn't a last minute thing. We had been looking forward to it all summer. We were working with our Glastonbury family. Work is 'Daemon or Doppleganger'. An art project set up by a close family friend ten years ago. She tours the summer festivals with a marquee and many tonnes of red potters clay.

Revellers are invited to create whatever takes their fancy out of a fist sized piece of clay. She collects them up at the end of the festival and carefully transports them home to Frome where they get fired over the winter. Only the strong survive the journey and the firing process. Over time she has built up a collection of 4+tonnes (she'll correct me if I've got this wrong) of little clay people. They are stored on site, in their own area, at Worthy Farm, Glastonbury.

The more impressive figures get taken on tour the following year and the rest are gathered to make a mini clay festival, complete with mini pyramid stage and little long-drop toilets, in Bella's field. It is truly lovely work. A shift consists of a couple of hours (depending on how many people there are to rotate) meeting people, telling them about the project, handing them clay and a board to work on and watching what they come up with.

People absolutely love it. It is free and there is no suggested time limit. There are no boundary's and no guidelines. I've met people who have come back year after year to make another model. At the end of each day the artists can come back and collect their work to take home if they'd rather. It's a joyous way to spend a couple of hours a day and it comes with significant perks. At Shambala we were camped behind the Marquee in the craft area. Slap bang in the middle of the calm part of the festival. In our caravan, with our friends. It makes the whole experience do-able with kids and even boarders on Luxurious which is not something you'd normally associate with UK summer music festivals.

On the Saturday evening, after we'd closed the front of the marquee (work finishes at 6pm), we set up a table and chairs, table cloths, candles and fairy lights and had a dinner party for My eldest daughter's tenth birthday. My Brother and his lady were there too and it was such a lovely meal. Shambala festival is very beautiful. Small but big enough to be fun. Plenty of kids but lots of attractions for the grown ups after dark. Our girls enjoyed a little bit of freedom and were allowed to explore together for pre-agreed periods of time.

On Monday 25th we took down the Marquee and packed up the caravan (in the rain - not so luxurious!) and drove to Dover where we stayed overnight in a sweet campsite, Did our washing, scrubbed the kids, cleaned the caravan and regrouped. On Tuesday morning we set sail for five days in France.

We were supposed to be heading for Cornwall to spend time with Footsbarn who spent the summer touring the UK, but at the last minute had been called away by the never ending saga of sorting out My Dad's legacy. His hate for paperwork will continue to haunt me for years and it's trail reaches far and wide!

We camped beside the river in Herisson. A stunning medieval village in the centre of France. The weather was gorgeous. We caught up with many friends (Footsbarn are based there so we have a long-term connection with the area). It was a short, sweet break and we were sad to head home again.

Seventy

So much has happened. I'm overwhelmed by my own news! What a wonderful position to be in. I often wonder if I'm bored, or if I lead a boring life but faced with the job of writing down all that's been going on in the last couple of months I realise I'm actually quite active!

Glastonbury was a blast. The kids were suitably surprised and excited. My sister and her family went and we all camped in the crew camping area with our Glastonbury family. A circle of eight caravans around lush green grass with tables and chairs and toys for all the kids. A lovely camping holiday in the middle of the biggest festival in the world!

The girls spent 5 days in utter wonderment. They quickly adapted their outfits to suit the festival style and requested ever more elaborate glitterwork and dresses under waterproofs. We caught some of their idols, Lana Del Rey, Lily Allen and Ellie Goulding and also managed to drag them to see bands we were more interested in too.

We all talked about Dad a lot, last year's Glastonbury with him being so fresh in our minds, reminders of him were everywhere.

I worked very hard not to become exhausted. At times annoyed by my own limitations but in some ways finding it easier having the girls there to match myself to. Having said that, the security of such a tight family camp gave us the opportunity to put the girls to bed and venture out again into the night.

We arrived home on the Monday night, had a good sleep and went straight into hospital on Tuesday morning.

My mastectomy and reconstruction went well. I had both breasts rebuilt using implants and internal scar tissue under my left arm reduced. I had a steady stream of visitors and was back out in record time (2 or 3 days I think). Unfortunately due to the complexity of the operation I had to carry around not one but three drains (blood bottles!) for the next couple of weeks.

I spent about two weeks in the house recovering but felt better so much more quickly than I had after my first mastectomy. I can only assume this is because I am not ill this time. I had to visit the hospital almost daily so they could keep an eye on the drains and the healing process. Doing this from home was so much easier than from Kent.

On the 18th July we went to Hythe to spend a couple of days beside the sea, a generous gift from My Husband's aunt. We visited family and friends whilst there and I watched in envy as my family swam in the sea.

The week of the 21st July I was feeling much better. Still not allowed to drive/swim/exercise but getting around well and in much less pain. at the end of the week we were offered last minute tickets to The Secret Garden Party. A smaller music festival in Cambridgeshire. My Sister's fella was playing there with his band and had some un-allocated artists passes.

I went to hospital on Friday morning for a check up and asked my surgeon what he thought about me gallivanting off to a festival for the weekend during my recovery period. He said that my recent surgery was supposed to be enriching my life, not holding me back and that I should go for it but be sensible.

We threw the kids and the tent in the car and off we went!

August came quickly and the children were off school I was surprised to be well enough to do most things with them. I hadn't booked anything in for the first few weeks, Imagining that I would be stuck at home recovering. I amazed myself and was able to keep up with the girls.

Having them at home with me gave me the distraction I needed to help me lift myself from the depression that had begun to set in. I don't really feel able to write about it but had been very low. I am still struggling with this but I am very much better than I had been for a few months.

We decided on a whim to get the train to Exmouth to stay with my Granny. A plan that backfired when Daughter number one developed pnuemonia, finally ending up in Hospital on IV antibiotics. Ironically we had returned from Devon to My Mother-in-law's in Kent when she was finally diagnosed (after multiple trips to the doctors). I spent another night in my (not) favourite hospital where I have spent so much time over the past couple of years first myself and then with Dad. This time they did a good job and after 24 hours she was allowed home, well on the road to recovery.


Glastonbury

Secret Garden Party