no river too deep...

We were pretty lucky with the rain this weekend I have to say. It didn't really start raining yesterday till after Arlo was tucked up in bed and we were pitched up under big, old trees so we were pretty sheltered.

By the time the rain came through the trees it was really my nodding-off-with-my-mouth-hanging-open-whilst-precariously-balancing-a-glass-of-red -wine-on-my-knee-time bed time so we tiptoed merrily to our tents and after leaping into our sleeping bags we were both sound asleep before the next rain drops landed. The rain drummed on the tent and kept us all asleep (including Arlo) till nearly Noon! Amazing!

The rain might have kept us in a rhythmic slumber but all around us it took its toll and when we did venture out there were massive puddles all around our tent, a wee mouse was driven to take shelter under our top sheet (after our Shreddies I'll wager) and Bry came back from the first car load of stuff to inform me that the previously quite shallow but still fast moving burn (that had to be crossed to get to our campspot) had swollen quite dramatically.

When it was time for Arlo & I to head to the car I actually got a bit panicked at the burn. I know Bry had warned me but I wasn't expecting it to have swollen to the size of a small river (possibly over dramatic, but it was scary none the less). I gingerly planted my feet into the mud at the very edge of the water and watched my heroic husband cart Arlo across in a fireman's lift stylee. They were both at the other side urging me on but I felt rooted to the spot.

Stupidly I'd allowed my imagination to play out the scene before I had physically moved a muscle and in my head I could clearly see the water rushing up and over my wellies and into my boots - creating huge weights of water stuck to my legs meaning I couldn't actually move them. I would then topple to the fast moving, deep-ish water, (but not being so deep that it would cover me). I'd get carted along in a rather embarrassing half sweep / half amble type manoevre and become only 3/4 drenched - which would (of course) include my entire head. Bedraggled and scraped I would finally get to my feet and lurch to the other side, not too dissimilar to a wild beast that had been shot in the thigh by a tranquiliser dart. This would be my son's final vision of me in the water before I finally grabbed onto a tree and half scrambled, half flopped up the banks like a gigantic fish making it's way to it's egg laying home (cum deathbed).

Honesly, when you have an imagination like mine it really is a wonder that I get anything done.

Fortunately, I shook that hideous image from my brain, took two timid steps into the deep parts, nimbly grabbed the tree and skipped up the embankment - a look of sheer relief across my face. "Well done Captain Hook" my son declared as I joined the two of them on the other side.

Ooft. And somehow I've managed to create a whole Blip about something that didn't actually happen. Ah well. I suppose the beauty of that is that the scene isn't too inconceivable. So it is just as possible that it WOULD have happened. In fact, the more I think on it, the more miraculous it is that it didn't happen.

Shut up and go to bed now Abi.