The other day I spoke of being VERY COLD. That was absolute carp, it was before I truly discovered what it is to be cold. I have been so utterly chilled today my head hurts from the strain of just staying alive. Three days of dancing has passed in a blur of colour and sound and for the most part was completely enjoyable but today it was starting to verge on the distinctly miserable. In a tumble-down castle on a hill by the sea is not a place that is going to be the cosiest of locations but the weather seemed to have gone out of its way to be ridiculously un-summery.

This weekend the freaks of the world could have been walking round in Hastings (not difficult anyway) dressed in only a red hat and bloomers and nobody would have given a second glance because there were so many outrageous outfits on parade. I’m quite sure some of the bizarrely attired folks out there were just taking advantage of the opportunity presented to them to pass unnoticed for a change. In fact the oddest people in town were the ones in sensible, conservative habiliments.

As for the dancing, I managed to squeeze myself into quite a few dances over the weekend, and made surprisingly few mistakes so I was quite happy. Both my little ones came to watch their mother make a spectacle of herself today and I was deeply touched. That they even left the house on such a foul day was pretty amazing let alone stand around in the freezing cold wind to endure a whole lot of Morris dancing. Hubby on the other hand has gone to Spain for a week to avoid it. Well each to his own, and to be honest I think I would rather have been in Spain today than Hastings.

On the up-side I can rest easy about not feeling like watering the garden. Swings and roundabouts.