Towersey Village Festival is one of those things. Sure, there's other festivals that probably cater better for my eclectic musical tastes. And my age old love of things with wheels on.
No matter. Camp up, nice and close to friends of old, handy for the borrowed spot of whatever forgotten, a quick glance at the programme, and out around the sites to happen across whatever entertains. Some things remain cosily the same, others refreshingly new. Liquorice stall a-beckoning for a start! Different this year though - Towersey virgins in our party, kids older and more independent and...
I miss Kate.
Didn't realise it till we were on the road there at the turning to Woburn - our favourite route there in vehicles various. A quick flash, blink, flash, memory. And settled there, moments alone whilst kids in workshops of craft and melodeon, watching dancers practising. Laughing, joking, arms and legs twirling passionately, pulling faces at footwork mistakes...
Lovely reminders of Kate.
Hot this year. Ankles aching, walking to and fro as much as dragging a double bass allows. Our children circus skilling and making paper lanterns; some selfish time alone. Joining sessions at the beer tent and on the pub lawn beneath the tree shade. Enthralled in the Village Hall. Bumping into friends. Missing those I knew weren't there this year.
Especially my best friend.
Caught Sid Kipper, megostar of Norfolk. On walnut shells, violin, paper hankies. Brilliant. And David Holt, stories and music from the Appalachian mountains. Tales of Doc Watson's life. Player of whisky bottles, paper bags, banjos, guitars and more. Ticked every box like Them Harvey Boys I reckon; he even ended up story telling in the children's tent. Met him to say goodbye during the magical late night lantern procession. Kids old enough to take part this year. Tissue paper and sticks formed into giant feet, flowers, dragons, a double decker bus... Lit by soft candle light. Flash, blink, flash. Beautiful moments tinged with flecks of sadness.
Kate missing this.
Home again. Speeding fine - knew it was coming - laying on the mat. Down to earth with a bump. Nothing to pay it with, just twenty two solitary pounds to my name. Still, life goes on, van unpacked, clothes, cutlery and crockery washed. Photos slideshowed on the iMac - another hippy, happy Towersey. Lovely, gorgeous reminders of sharing the fun with friends. Evening with the kids watching Beetlejuice. Baths of mud. Bed. Alone in the house with melancholy and an IPA. Happy times shared.
But I still miss Kate.
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