As he did last year, Jon has asked me to post a regular update on the preparations and actual event that is the Weird Weekend. So, this is the first of the, what I plan to be, daily updates that will record the ups and downs through the last week, as seen through my eyes.
In four and a half days, the traditional cocktail party that precedes the annual Weird Weekend will be underway in our back garden. This year it will be the weekend’s 9th birthday so things should be somewhat passé in the organisation stakes by now. So are we ready and waiting? I could say, ‘but of course we are – we have had enough practice at this sort of thing after all. We are so laid-back. We are catching up on a spot of reading, painting our toenails, laying in bed until mid-day, and thoroughly enjoying a spot of pre-weekend relaxation’. As I said, I could say that. However, I may tell a few white lies occasionally, but to state the above would be a blatant whopper of a black one. Of course we are not ready! In truth, I suppose, you can never really be totally ready for an event of this kind, but can only hope that what you have achieved is enough.
The last few weeks have seen us all with frayed tempers, and nerves, and have seen us constantly trying to find our heads as we rush around like the infamous chickens without them. Clumps of hair are dotted around the place to be left where they lay after having been torn out with clenched fists of frustration. For one reason or another, we are also down on ‘man-power’ this year so we have been considering laying traps to press-gang anyone who steps over the threshold to Myrtle Cottage. So, Mr. Postie, I would watch your back if I were you.
The tense atmosphere has also been exacerbated due to the unseasonable (or has it now become more the norm) weather and the added bonus of the roof over the porch and utility room collapsing. Water had seeped in through cracks, the sheer weight of which had caused this inopportune event to take place. These defects could not be attended to before due to the aforementioned weather not allowing essential repairs to be done. Sod’s law at work, I guess, that it should all fall down now.
So buckets to the ready, and tissues to hand to mop up tears of frustration, we are still battling on to ensure that the weekend goes as well as it possibly can. We are all getting good at performing a slalom around the strategically placed buckets and are even thinking of inventing some kind of timed game to see who can get from the dining room to the outside – without slipping over on the wet patches – the fastest. Hey ho.
But, on the up side, we are getting there ….. I think.