My last blog, if you remember, was about how I was reluctant to go to Glastonbury and leave E (or, more accurately, leave S to look after E.) I am now back and most importantly, have had a shower and can reflect on the weekend.
First up, I don’t think I can go away without E again. I did it this time because I bought the ticket without really thinking it through. But having shed tears dropping her off at nursery, then getting slightly drunk and weeping on the shoulder of a relative stranger on Thursday afternoon (she was very understanding) I devoted some of the rest of the weekend to watching how other parents manage with their children at Glastonbury. (In the main, there are two of them – I would have to take E on my own. Hmm.)
Second, although I am not too old to dance like a maniac to the Rolling Stones, Chic and various other outfits, and although I am not too old to join in a mass singalong and headbanging session to Bohemian Rhapsody in a field at 1 in the morning, I am now definitely too old to camp next to young people. The ones to the back of my tent were ghastly. I’m sure I was just as vapid at their age but I was nowhere near as self confident so I don’t think I can have made such an impression with my vapidity. So if I take E, I could camp in the family fields and not have to bother listening to them wittering crap and taking drugs at 6 in the morning. My reserves of patience are purely for walking around the house with E for hours on end. Actually in a way it was reassuring to find traces of my old irritable self coming through.
Third, parenthood (or I suppose it could just be age) has had a discernible effect on my body. Usually I wander the late night areas watching people (I don’t join in as I hate dance music but I do like to see what’s going on) and this year found this was pretty difficult due to the backache. Bending down to get to my air mattress there was a number of sharp pains and groans. Bloody hell. I was thinking of doing a blog post about bodily changes since childbirth, so watch this space. (Oh joy, I hear you say.)
Fourth, I feel that having had experience of longdrops at Glastonbury may have prepared me for changing nasty nappies. Or this year, changing nasty nappies made it easier to deal with the longdrops. Either way, I look poo in the face and laugh. Haha!
All in all, I had a lovely weekend – there wasn’t a bad performance among the acts I saw, I (finally) went up the tower, drank some lovely coffee flavoured tequila (thanks Hobbit), wept tears of joy at certain performances, had the hairs on the back of my neck stand up at others and in general felt full of loveliness.
I conclude by saying three things: that yet again I regret not dying my hair pink, that I need more sparkly things in my life and that, come the apocalypse, I will manage a lot better than people who take duvets to Glastonbury with them (What are they thinking? Use a sleeping bag you muppets.)
When I got home, E was pleased to see me and delighted when we shared a bath together. She and S had a nice weekend and, while staying with his parents, went to the zoo where she laughed at otters. So all in all, I think it went ok.
Thank you Glastonbury. Thank you S. xxxx