Going,

Packing list

• Tent
• drugs
• clothes
• nappies and pads and wipes
• food
• coats
• blankets
• towels
• torches
• cooker and spare gas
• pots and pans
• cutlery and crockery
• nebuliser
• potty
• bath
• camp chairs
• camp table
• camp kitchen
• feed supplies
• power chair
• minny chair
• Mog's 3 wheeler
• chargers for power chair, suction, feed pumps, phone and iPod
• sleeping bags and camp beds
  

For the morning

• toiletries
• Nippy
• suction
• wheelchair
• girls
• map
• diesel
• food block for fish
• camera, battery and charger

OK so who has stolen my sleeping bags? They are not in the garage. They are not in the cupboard under the stairs (yes, we have no stairs but we still have the cupboard underneath them. It's a glory hole great place to store all our camping gear. The sleeping bags are not in it), they are not in the airing cupboard nor in my room nor in the girls rooms. They are not in the sitting room, kitchen, playroom or sunroom. Nor are they on top of wardrobes, under wardrobes, buried in the laundry piles or masquerading as pillows or mattress toppers. Somewhere in this house are seven sleeping bags. Three from the first year I went, taking just Goldie and I. A fourth from when Mog joined us. A fifth, sixth and seventh from last year when we couldn't find these ones. Someone, somewhere, is eating our sleeping bags.

I'd probably be less stressed about this if I had started packing at the start of today, rather than getting distracted by making slippers for the girls, and leaving the packing until bedtime. They're not even particularly good slippers...

Oh well; if I believe the BBC weather forecast we'll be wet all week, which on the plus side means it probably won't get bitterly cold at night. If on the other hand I go with the Met Check forecast we're in for a beautiful next few days, which probably means starry starry (colder) nights. When I win the lottery, I will have minions to do my camp packing for me. And the washing afterwards. Alternatively, I could just buy somewhere with grounds big enough for everyone to camp in, and go back to my comfy bed and solid walls when I finish visiting with them.

We'll be there this time tomorrow; our tent will be up, these sleeping bags or borrowed ones from elsewhere will be inside it, and I shall be sitting on an extremely comfy camp chair catching up on a years' worth of "how are you"s with friends I rarely get to see. Until then though, you might want to avoid getting too close to me. Unless you're returning my sleeping bags or else possibly bearing a mallet and ready to help tomorrow.

Tia