why are you reading?
took a bit of effort dragging ourselves away from the farm.
despite the amount of energy it takes just keeping the place ticking over, it really feels like we're on holiday all the time here.
especially on a sunny day when the cover's off the pool.
anyway...
drove to reading via staines (to collect tickets) and pitched up around 2pm(?)
met up with crispin (daddy), steve, sarah, harriet and cousin james (perou) who took this fine photo and supplied the cider in my hand...sweeeet.
looking for a tent with less of a crowd, we bundled into one with a band in grotty, shouty swing.
a 'proper' rock band.
'look maximum' i said, 'the bass player's wearing a mexican mask like you've got'
and as my eyes acclimatised to the dark of the tent, '...and...ur...he's not wearing any other clothes at all...hmmm..?'.
z offering 99 flake
crispin receiving 99 flake
sadly, roundabouts 6pm my sons had had 99 flakes and started to flake.
didn't make it to 'NIN' or the 'smashing pumpkins'.
or even (the) darkness (the lighting condition: not the band)
boosted back to the farm in a couple of hours.
i don't really mourn the loss of my ability to enjoy a festival in the same way i used to.
feels right.
but very different...
or maybe i do miss the carefree irresponsibilty of being childless?
i don't know.
love my boyz though.
wouldn't want life any other way...it was good to have them with us.
i wonder if they'll remember the experience?
value it?
or take it for granted like everything else they seem to?
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