Striking camp

A guiding/scouting term that describes the action of packing up and heading home. That was what we did late morning after a cooked breakfast which we ate outside, in the tiny bit of shade that the car offered. We then drove the 5 minutes down to Jon's parents so that they could have a look at the caravan. They were very keen caravanners up until perhaps 10 years ago, and had several different layouts. Jon's dad is not very mobile but there is space on their driveway, so we parked up and gave them a tour. They approve very much and were pleased for us.

We headed home eventually, after a cup of tea, and a chat, arriving home at 3.30. Jon used the motor mover to get the caravan into a position in front of our house. He plans to cut more of the hedge back and eventually move it next to the hive.

Since getting in, I've been working on the wedding favours. I have about 50 left to sew up, and then I can start on the hand writing on the front.

Dan came over and Mollie cooked fajitas for dinner and we ate in the garden. We must make the most of the nice, cooler evenings. It is still far too hot for me in the day, and I am quite dreading this week in the summerhouse working.

I've got aching teeth and head, which I have had since my filling last Monday. My face still feels tender and I am hoping it is still going to settle on its own, but I wasn't in this pain before the filling. So it is very frustrating. Dosed up with pain killer seems the norm.

Think I need an early night after the excitement of our weekend.

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