It was a horribly wet weekend in Windermere but our tent, Matilda (so called because it looks like that robot from Robot Wars), kept us dry. Unfortunately I forgot my earplugs so I couldn't stand the sound of the raindrops on the roof. It was like Chinese water torture and I thought I would go mad if I had to listen to it all night. So I crept into the house and slept on the floor of the room where my mum and dad were sleeping. Vince was able to sleep through the noise the git!
Before that though we had a grand party, ate lots of food, drank lots, had some musical enertainment on guitar, bazouki and fiddle (as long as no one was watching) and several people read some poems. I wore a dress that was much admired, bought from Monsoon sale two years ago. I'd just had my hair cut too so I was looking rather hot even if I do say so myself!
The highlight of the evening for me was my dad read a poem. It was the first poem he had ever written. He was inspired by his love of cars, his purchase of a Mini and the band Rammstein. This was an absolutely amazing thing because he kept it a total secret. My dad is a very quiet man, all friends meeting him for the first time are warned not to take it personally if he doesn't speak to them, conversation with him can be difficult. So that he wrote a poem AND then read it out in front of a room full of people was absolutely amazing. Go dad!
Vince also challenged us to write a poem one word at a time going round the room in a circle. This is the resulting poem, suggestions for a title please:
Twas angst words said despaired foresight man
but upside-down frogspawn blow job please
heron standing slithering shit arsehole rogered
salubrious kalapidgeonist* Voldemort Vince
*no idea if that's the right spelling but apparently means you like bums
The next morning we all appeared bleary eyed and ate breakfast on the terrace - croissants, veggie sausages, beans, mushrooms, scrambled egg, and for the meat eaters Ruth (Journal of a Wise Woman) did a hot trade in bacon butties from the back of her camper van Florence, who sadly died shortly afterwards requiring vehicle rescue.
I am still recovering from the lack of sleep, I'm half asleep at work today, but it was a bloody good weekend!
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7 comments:
not only does the poem need a title but it needs some punctuation!
it's callipyginous btw- you can read about it here
http://plancksconstant.org/blog1/2006/09/callipyginous_a_word.html
It is surprising what quality of spontaneous wordplay can come out of a room full of talented poets and musicians! Just goes to show, we are all thwarted adolescents after all!
Sounds like fun.
You're getting well into this campaign mularkey - I wouldn't be surprised if you did off to live in a teepee in west Wales ...
I would love to live in west Wales but maybe not in a teepee.
I tried to find the correct spelling of callipyginous on dictionary.com but had no luck, but maybe as my spelling was so out!
Yes it needs punctuation but I can't remember the accents and rhythm that Vince was using so I'll have to let him do that.
Sounds like a good weekend! Glad you had fun and you're getting into the camping thing! Thats quite something for your Dad, really nice he could do that!
Yes Jen - you know what he's like so you know how amazing it is!
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