Time for a break

July already and high time I feel for a little wyld adventure. It's been a while since we last took a family holiday, just the four of us 'Team Sale'. So I thought we'd take a few days away.
I had visions of us racking up with the minimum amount of 'stuff' to a field of sorts in the middle of nowhere. My visions were of the children running free, climbing trees, catching fish in a stream - hours of endless free time for me to just sit and ponder, read, wonder, write and perhaps crochet something beautiful........arrrrrr sheer bliss!

After much debating as to where to go, we narrowed our choices down to two. Studland, Dorset and The New Forest. I'm still trying to move away from the familiar and as Studland on the Isle of Purbeck was yet to be discovered, it won the toss.
Books packed, crochet yarns, two note books (just in case), even contemplate taking the stripy deckchair but decide otherwise.
Packing was to be essential items only (the Little Lady still managed to smuggle in that duvet that I banned from our last overnight trip a month ago)! We packed the most basic old tent that my dad lent us. I do have a beautiful canvas bell tent but for short adventures we tend to 'rough it' and as the canvas number takes up the entire boot of the car it is not for adventures of the very short kind!
I did have a perfectly good and roomy weekend tent for such occasions but as it has seen rather a lot of use and due to being left up in the garden some years back for weeks on end, it became rather rotten and whilst shaking off excess water on it's last use, I managed to rip the whole front side out!! Big sigh.......

So the old ridge tent it was. It had to be the oldest tent on the site by far and was riddled with tiny holes. I stupidly didn't test the thing for size before going and it was debatable as to whether we would all in fact fit it. Hmmm could be interesting!
Well it looked perfect for our 'Famous five style' adventure and isn't a bit of accommodation all part of the fun?

Corfe Castle

The children aren't always spontaneous in their willingness to help and I frequently find myself doing all the grafting. Mostly it doesn't bother me but just occasionally - as in, when the poles separate for the umteenth time and you realise that you forgot the sticky tape (which would have made the job a whole lot easier) and when the blackest of storm clouds blow ever closer, it doesn't always seem that I get a fair deal.
So just as the tent is pitched the heavens open and the biggest down pour ever is experienced. Good for testing the water tightness of the tent.......girls in tent, dog and I in the car and The Boy completely oblivious to the pouring rain, swinging in the trees on a rope swing getting totally drenched!
Tent luckily seems to be water resistant despite the holes, but new roof bag containing bedding and sleep mats has failed on maiden voyage and all of my bedding is soaking......Great! Sleeping bag with large wet patch right in the centre has to be hung out for all to see giving the appearance  of a 'wet bed'!
All is dry for bedtime and the challenge of squeezing four into what looks like a 3 man tent. Luckily The Boy manages to fold his sleeping mat and squash himself into the luggage area, perfect!

When camping in style one takes all the luxury items necessary to assist in the 'feel' of the well equipped kitchen area, but when roughing it, once again only the bare essentials make it into the car.

The kitchen!

The one of the main reasons for our little adventure was as a treat to celebrate The Boy turning 7. Time passes oh so quickly, seems like only yesterday that Tim and I were shocked to see that our new born bundle was in fact not a third girl!
So the adventures for the day were for his choosing. He really is very simple to please and requested only for a trip to the beach for chips and ice-cream. As we were driving back to base the day prior to his big day, I observed a beautiful stretch of sandy beach. Cars were parked all along the road particularly in one area so I figured that must indicate the most popular place, hopefully the nicest and most spectacular too. We pulled up early on the day and sure enough once again although relatively early in the day, there were all the cars once again. We/I loaded up with picnic, rug, dog, buckets...all the usual stuff that such excursions demand, and we trundled off through the bracken and gorse in search of our haven. 20 minutes later and shattered from the sandy walk we encounter a sign warning us of 'naturists' in 200m.....Hmmmm could be interesting??!! Ordinarily I might have turned round and gone somewhere else, but having made the tiresome journey in the blazing heat, I found myself reassuring the smalls that we are all naturists under our clothes, so onwards we went.
It wasn't long of course before the children were sniggering and prodding each other and yes...counting the naked bodies. It was quite amusing to see folk hiding in the dunes and popping up every so often and then bobbing back down again.

Someone else played hide and seek in the dunes too!

 

We played in the sand for a while before heading off up the coast (chuckling at my mistake) for those chips and ice-cream
Taking the dog on a beach holiday wasn't one of our best ideas. It's lovely for her to be away with us but most beaches don't allow dogs at this time of the year, so we frequently had to observe from a distance. The Boy was of course totally in his element searching out shells and dead crabs and chatting to all the fishermen and women.
So all in all a successful couple of days :-)

Crabbing in Lymington

 

Did I get those hoped for moments of freedom?? Just a few :-)

Boy stuff!

It can't be easy for Small Boy growing up in a house full of girls, even the pets are all female!
It isn't surprising that he frequently 'kicks off' in some way in an attempt to define himself and stake his position and manliness.
As a widow it's not easy being the mother and father too. Although I try to think of 'boyish' activities, I ultimately function in 'girl land'. It would be easy (and tempting) you would imagine for the boy to just hang up his hat and join in with our 'girly' capers, but no....and all praise to him. He continues to function as as he intends which is frequently often much to our disgust!
Although all three of us girlie's often feel rather grossed out by the actions of the boy, we realise and accept that he is wired slightly differently to us and generally that's okay
I thought I'd share a few of his recent antics with you......now to those of you who parent or who have previously parented boys, these antics may not come at all as a surprise, if not....be prepared to be shocked, disgusted and grossed out ...sorry!

So, the boy is showing creative engineering potential. This has taken the form of numerous trips to the skip to obtain much needed resources for his creative trailer projects which are continuously constructed, tested, dismantled, reconstructed, re-tested and so it goes on.....I''ve tried in vain to return to the skip the old mixer taps, lengths of chicken wire, washing machine hoses and unidentified metal objects, but at the end of the day they are all back in the garden gracing the lawn once more in some new form of contraption.

A couple of weeks ago I left the boy with a good friend who like me parents in a very relaxed way. The boy greeted me on my return with a very excited smile as he had been down to the local stream and had collected a dead crayfish. This was the beginning of his recent fascination with dead things!
The crayfish was one of our native ones which are becoming increasingly rare in our British waters since the American Signals were introduced. We've spent much time in the past observing them and even catching them. You can eat them if you so desire....not my cup of tea but still, the boy likes the idea.
The crayfish in question looked pretty safe to me being dead and in a glass jar filled with water. I was sure there was no harm to his possessing it for a short while. How wrong! It wasn't long before the water was cloudy from all the shaking it was exposed to and the opening and closing of the jar wafted the gentle 'fishy' aroma around. The girls were not in the slightest bit amused when they were chased with it and I certainly wasn't impressed when the cloudy, crayfish ridden water was spilled in the car!

The weekend before last saw the arrival of two dead bunnies (one headless). Yes we thought it rather sad too. One doesn't like to think of the family pooch having pursued the poor things but it's certainly a possibility. Two dead bunnies held up in the doorway....hmmmm we all went from 'arrrr poor things' mode to rapidly ushering the boy off to areas new. It would have been nice to have thought that he might have taken the bunnies off to give them some kind of decent burial and he did make a grave of sorts. An open grave in an old tyre covered with the barbecue grill and a small flower pot. Of course I questioned his motives and he said he wanted to watch the darlings decompose. Not opposed to the learning experience I didn't disagree, but the next day when I ventured out for a spot of garden loveliness I almost vomited at the sight of the dog munching happily on the head of the previously intact creature - not a pleasant sight to see she had avoided the eyeballs!
With my face held to one side and plastic bags on each hand, I snaffled the (now fragrant) carcasses and disposed of them in the wheelie bin!
Within hours one very angry Small Boy had exhumed the bunnies remains from the bin and relocated them to the tyre......hmmmmm!
The next day, having failed to recall the previous days events due to frequency of such moments, I invite a friend to dine in the beautiful outdoors with me. Of course the garden is filled with the aroma of rotting flesh (not good for the appetite) - maggot ridden remains flew to undisclosed location - garden now free of essence of death - for the moment!

Friday, Small Boy returned home from a gentle stroll around the lake with a friend with a new surprise - a pike. It was a momentous sight to see him standing by the gate with the foot long specimen dangling from the stick on which it was impaled. Mmmmm the scent of fish is not one of my favourite smells. Holding my breath and with my hand covering my nose and mouth, I managed to admire the catch whilst holding back the gag reflex. The Boy had removed his socks and shoes and become quite muddy in his venture to rescue the already dead exhibit. Clothes are for playing in and if a little dirt is involved - all the better!

Anyway, as you can imagine, after discussing the reasons why he couldn't eat the pike for tea, he wanted a bucket for it. The neighbours were called from their homes to admire the splendid creature and it wasn't long before kitchen knives were requested and the gutting commenced. I was informed the last supper had been something green!
Of course the fish hung around for two days before disappearing to the base of the wheelie bin (hidden in a tied bag).

This weekend events have been rather tame in comparison to the dead antics of last week. Last night I busied myself with work of the stitching nature quite oblivious to what was occurring in my surrounding domain. It wasn't until I made the journey to bed that I discovered the ingenious web woven throughout the house. One Small Boy had rather cleverly rigged up a whole system of string to several of the doors to enable him to close them from a distance. rather clever I thought, so you see not all antics are of a disgusting nature, this one had me smiling as I drifted off to the land of nod.

Tales of a car journey

You'd think that as the children become older and supposedly more sensible and mature that the humble car journey would or should become easier, possibly even a pleasurable experience....I am at this moment in time chuckling at myself at how that is soooo NOT the case. Whether it is the fact that I have such a varied age range among my little darlings with the rather annoying six year old at one end and the slightly moody teenager at the other, I am not sure but it edges on the side of ridiculous, far beyond comprehension so I thought I'd share, surely I'm not alone....am I??

We have plans to go on supposedly lovely trip to Welsh borders for party with male friend so suggest (requesting politely at this stage) that children pack only essential items as with five in the car plus camping stuff, room will indeed be at a premium.
Two children pack sensibly for trip one decides that she has more rights than rest and packs very large bag for self with so say 'essential' items. Hmmm bet you can guess where this is going!
Bag is opened and 'essential' items are checked and passed as all other family members have followed instructions so there is space (just).
30 minute warning is given as to time of departure and need for children to get dressed and consume an adequate breakfast to beat hunger pangs for next two hours.
5 minute warning is given, one child is still cooking toast whilst another is in pyjamas.....
I make what seems like endless journey's to the car hauling stuff from the house. Amazingly there is just enough room for small number of belongings from friend who is to travel with us.
ETD is upon is and abuse in the form of 'I ate you' echos from the upper floor.....
Five minutes later all children are in the car (as is hound) and we are ready for off......
The Little Lady has smuggled her double duvet into the car in the foot well....hmmmm! Decide to make a point of insisting duvet is returned to house so that said child realises that BOUNDARIES AND RULES ARE NOT FOR BREAKING........am confronted with a stand off in the form of said child sitting in the car and refusing to budge. Decide to call off trip until duvet is returned to house....still waiting!
Two (now seemly well behaved children) return to house whilst said child remains in car....with duvet.
Ten minutes later (now late to pick up friend) and said child stomps into house with duvet which she dumps in hall.
Take two...we're off.
I glance into the rear of the car and it seems Miss P has created a cordoned off area for Small Boy (blocking off his area of the car with a blanket suspended between the front seat and rear of the car) because he has a cold. It is not long before red partition is pulled down by Boy who proceeds to sneeze over Miss P.....1st war begins!
Within no time at all the whines of 'Muuuuum....' are ringing in my ears. A large thump is returned from Small boy to complaining teenager who retaliates.....Am glad to have very blocked ear at this point as shrieks and complaints are directed my way!
Distract children with lovely Katie Mellula CD which has soothing effect and momentarily calms situation.. Miss P complains that we have over played CD so radio is engaged instead.
It's not long before the sounds of 'How long until we're there' can be heard......Random time comes from mouth.
Next are the long drawn out bubbling sounds as Small Boy inhales copious amounts of snot back into nasal passage. Everyone is grossed out and gagging at sound. Suggest using tissue to blow out contents but instead am informed by teenager that Boy is covering single nostril and alternating blowing and snorting snot in and out of nostril. 2nd war begins as teenager covers Boy with partitioning blanket to muffle the sounds. Further bashing and tears.......

Friend comes to the rescue with 'Boiled sweet therapy'.

Location of party is questioned and friend sets phone SAT NAV to help us out. Modern technology is not working according to plan. Chaos breaks out as minor discrepancies are heard from the back and I'm distracted but lack of direction from friend and technology. Decide to pull over.
Look at old fashioned fail safe map and familiar self with route, friend takes much needed pee and I offer children packed lunch. Arguments from the Little Lady as to the size of her share of baguette. 'You've given him the bit that I wanted.....' Offer water.....'Mine's the pink cup......mine's the blue...I want purple' Blue cup is given to the child who requested purple....'I wanted purple'....'Yes friend has that one so you have blue'...'Well I'm not drinking it as F has  a cold and it's touched his cup, I don't want a cold'.....arrrrhhhh 'Go without'.....

Show good example by finishing Boys drink not worrying about prospect of cold!

We reach village of destination. But cannot find house, do not have exact address and no phone signal....Small Boy removes his seat belt. I ask him to put it back on...Boy refuses....we stop car and wait until seat belt is re-fastened......sigh......it goes on......
Eventually reach destination.......

A creative moment Jean/skirt style

I've been taking in clothing and curtains for altering for some months now. Amaaaaaaazing how a moment of desperation set the ball rolling and how I quite hap hazardly fell into a little business venture that now supports my family and lifestyle.
It's a funny kind of business, interesting and full of variety in many ways and at the same time a vent for my creative energies. I've met some amazing people along the way so far and each piece of work seems to carry a tale or curiosity that never fails to capture and enchant my thoughts for a moment or two.
I've also learnt quite a lot. My sewing tuition was on a very basic level, at an early age, from my grandma, so I mainly consider myself a 'self taught' sewer and some how seem to possess a skill for being able to make things work. I have a vision of the end result and love making it happen.
When I first started out on this venture I had actually done very little with regards to altering clothing (although had much experience for creating things) and my first few jobs were really experiments in more ways than one. I struggled with charging initially and often completed jobs and charged just a fraction of the cost that I should have charged. I decided that if I thought of this initial period as 'in-house training', a sort of self-guided apprenticeship then that made me feel a whole lot better about doing jobs for a song. Along my journey there have been many challenges - all good of course. I cannot let a challenge slip me by!
The latest challenge was when a lovely lady arrived on my doorstep asking me to change a pair of jeans into a skirt. 'Yes, of course I can do that' is my usual reply and then I worry about how I'm going to complete the job later. This one was no exception. I gave it quite a bit of thought but decided that the job really couldn't be that difficult.....could it?
So I thought I'd share my little adventure with you. Please feel free to be inspired and replicate....inspiration is good! Make it your own if you can.....

Step one:
Find a pair of jeans that fit, you don't want to be adjusting the waist band as well as totally transforming the garment!
Put your jeans on and decide the length you want the finished skirt. Pop a pin or two at the finished length on one leg.

Step two:
You'll need a stitch ripper for this bit......undo the inner leg seams on both legs up to and including the curved bit of the crotch either side.

Step three:
This is the point of NO return.....cut off the legs straight across about 2 inches below the length pin that you marked in step one.
Can you see things taking shape here?

Step four:
Undo the leg pieces. Position part of one piece into the 'V' gap at the from of the skirt and pin it in place. Do the same for the back with another piece (you might have to bring the skirt in slightly here depending on how flared you want your finished skirt and how wide your off-cut leg pieces are. If they don't fit or if you've somehow messed them up you could add another piece of fabric here).

Step five:
Carefully sew the front panel in place. I've sewn mine using tram lines which are common on jeans, I've also used orange cotton to match up with the other seams.
Repeat for the back panel.
Then turn the skirt inside out and trim away the excess fabric leaving about 1cm for fraying.

 

Step six:
Lay out the skirt and measure down to the length pin. Pin along the same distance from the top along the skirt hem.

 

 Step seven:
Cut off the base of the skirt an inch below the length markers (this excess is for the turn up).

Step eight:
Turn up the skirt to the length line and iron the hem. Turn the hem back on itself to conceal the raw edge. Pin in place.


Step nine:
Sew up hemline.

 

I neatened up the raw edges on the inside with my over locker machine but you could easily do the same with a zig zag stitch or simply leave the edges to fray.

Ta dah!!!! All finished :-)

Ed note: Of course mine went swimming well until I reached the hemming stage......I thought I'd neaten up the raw edges of the underside with my rather super cool over locker sewing machine which makes things look really professional :-) and somehow I managed to pinch the wrong bit of fabric and it sewed that too and ALSO cut off a bit of the fabric which it does......arrrrrhhhhh a walnut sized hole right in the butt area. Bugger! Damn! Poops!!!
 'I'm going to have to replace the jeans.....
 not charge for other work......
 my good reputation will be ruined.....'
I spent three days deciding whether or not to fess up or to try and fix the issue. I'm glad to say that all was resolved by removing a section of fabric and inserting another piece. Breathe out, mahooosive sigh of relief. The lady loved it :-)

The story continues.......

The following day I had a call from a friend of said client who was shopping with her friend in the same charity store and purchased the same jeans...you guessed it...could I do the same to her jeans???

The merry month of May......

Marvellous, magnificent, magical, mysterious, merry,  May........

May, the month where all the mayhem of the Summer begins, (well in my eyes anyway)!
For the past couple of years I've longed to wake with the birds at this delicious time of year and trundle off into Oxford to experience the madness of May morning. Hear the choir singing from the tower at Magdalen, watch the sun rise, laugh at the revellers and just generally be the part of a tradition I know very little about.

This year (for the first time ever) I had two invitations for May morning.....the first was to celebrate a friends birthday with breakfast, the second to join in with a bit of jolly May dancing and madness a little more locally. Well of course, my bed is a very sacred place and an early rising is rarely on the agenda so although I would have loved to have ventured into the madness of Oxford, I instead invited the birthday friend to dance with me :-)

 

So here we are dancing away in the lovely village of Churchill, Nr Chipping Norton. The church there was designed by the same person as that at Magdalen, it's known as 'Mini Magdelen' to locals. I wasn't serenaded by choir boys and girls but elders ringing hand bells. And the revellers took the form of a large number of worms who were charmed from the depths of the earth by our gentle (thundering) foots steps! 

 

 

Flowers are in abundance suddenly in May and warmly welcomed after the dull landscape of Winter.

 

Love the words to this old song that I remember singing at Primary school.....

 

May also brought many other adventures...after grafting REALLY hard for a day on a friends farm, the children had the opportunity for a spot of pony riding. I did too although was honestly far too exhausted to do anything other than sit and be escorted in circles.

 

We visited the Roald Dahl museum in Great Missenden www.roalddahl.com/museum. Such a fascinating and inspiring chap was Mr Dahl, everyone wanted to be a writer on leaving the place :-)

 

May hosts Oxfordshire's Art weeks where a whole host of artists and crafts folk open up their homes and studios to allow the inquisitive public a little peek at the talent hidden within.

Once again sooooo inspiring, that week everyone wanted to be artists!!

 

Exercising our wild sides always features no matter what time of year it is.....

 

Then there was the wedding of my very handsome nephew and his beautiful bride........the opportunities for dressing up are so rare these days.

 

 

Thank you May until next year........

 

XXXXXXX

 

 

 

 

 

Children make the world go around

I was awoken yesterday morning by the sound of the phone ringing...of course I jumped out of bed and ran to the stairs (as it's usually for me) but no....this time what I heard was The Little Lady chatting away. 'Is it for me?' I yelled down...'No Mum, just making a business call'.....Oh!!!!!...Business call? It was only 8.30am and The Little Lady is only 9!
I stumble back to my room a little taken back that the call was not for me...hmmmmm
It wasn't long before it emerged that The Little Lady had indeed decided that day that she was going to embark on an instant money making venture and somehow she had also involved her friend....and before I knew it plans are made and the day organised but not by me, by her......'Oh, well I'll just clean the house then shall I and be your taxi service for the day?'

Well, the business was cushion making. She had obviously been planning her little venture secretly for the past couple of days as she asked the lovely lady I sew for for some fabric scraps and came back with a little stash that she busily ironed, cut and stitched into little pillows, using MY sewing machine may I add (no work today then for me...well not of the usual kind!)

The plan for the sale was to take the little cushions to our local home ed group and to set up a mini stall...which the girls did. Not sure that they made much money but I was impressed by the process and the pattern of thought.

 

Table scenes (in fact scenes anywhere and everywhere) are common sights in our house.

 

Temporary sculpture built using unconventional building bricks.

In daily life my children witness me first hand trying to make a living sewing and at present selling shoes and whatever other opportunities come our way. They see the trials and tribulations involved in creating the product, advertising and then selling it. They are directly involved in being part of the team, the work force. Recently a friend of ours who has been home educated started school. One of the projects she has been set is to create a business with £5. Miss P was very inspired by the idea and then I pointed out all the business ventures she has witnessed and the projects she has created for herself. Being at home doesn't limit such experiences, in fact, the mere fact that you do have more time, gives rise to such opportunities.

 

A collection of friendship bands handcrafted and ready to sell.

This afternoon Small Boy has been busy. I didn't pay much attention when her changed into his red overalls and a cap. I did notice when he came in covered in oil asking me to come and look at his new creation. A few weeks ago he dug an oval shaped piece of metal out of the skip (that skip again). He has spent much time out in the garden hammering the metal into shape, a shape which he has been telling me is like a tractor seat and indeed it was. Today in farmer-mode he turned his little toy tractor (partially) into a real tractor, he'd even found an old can of oil to keep things lubricated and some paint to paint the tyre (and the gravel on the path). That boy is always creating and 'mucking on'.

 

He just needs another wheel......

Giving the children the freedom to live their lives as they choose, to a certain extent, provides wonderful lessons and life skills. They are not controlled or governed by bells and the need to rush things, they are not forced to do projects that are not of interest to them. I watch them from a distance flourish and grow individually everyday and marvel at the creations and ideas that come into being. These are real ideas that come about through genuine innate inspiration. Ideas that they become passionate about and work on until they achieve their desired outcome. I treasure these moments and look forwards to seeing where their journey's take them. :-)

Dance for your daddy......

Life has been stupidly, wildly busy recently, I've had two weeks of total non-stop madness. This weekend marked the end of that period with further fun and frolicking in the form of complete and utter mind blowing craziness at the Rock Bottoms weekend in Torquay.

300+ dance crazy madmen (and women) seized and ambushed the entire Derwent Hotel and neighbouring establishments for a packed weekend of feasting, partying, cabaret, foolishness and DANCING :-)

Such a busy lead up meant that I had little time to become excited or anxious about the experience to follow, it didn't leave a whole lot of time for packing either. Two weeks prior to the event I dreamt two nights in a row that I had forgotten my clothes (except the ones I was wearing). Arrrr no clean knickers......unthinkable!
Thankfully those dreams didn't become a reality.

So following a busy day Friday, I finally managed to leave home ready for action!
It took me three hours to drive to Torquay, quite a nice surprise really as I had estimated it would take four. I do get a little 'throttle happy' when I want to get somewhere fast......
I actually quite like car journeys on my own, my own choice of music and head space to look around and be in awe of the wonderful surroundings I pass.
Arriving virtually last was not so cool though. The only parking space left was deemed inaccessible and required some 14 odd manoeuvres to squeeze the car in. Undeterred I did just that and abandoned my beloved chariot for the weekend. Of course the only remaining space was also in the most remote car park and furthest from the hotel. So loaded up with tightly overstuffed bags (I the dropped wine -luckily bottles survive concrete bruising....someone up there thought I deserved a good time!).
Arrived at hotel in a dishevelled state, hot and shattered from the ramble wondering how on earth I was going to survive the endurance test ahead?

I did manage a little bit of forward planning on the costume front for the Saturday night themed Greek or Geek evening. Initially I had thought sexy Greek goddess in something white but as I researched the Goddesses I came across Artemis, the Greek 'Goddess of the hunt'. The seed was sewn and in usual 'Kim style' quickly took root. A couple of days of thought and a trip to the wonderful Mason's inspired me to buy this......

Which quickly turned into this........it's a basque.....

 And this......

Oh, that's the booby bit!!

 

There it is...all finished :-) There's a bow and arrow on the back, although obviously you can't see that. I also put in eyelets and laced the back :-) 

It was most comfortable although a small mess up with my choice of zip meant I needed serious help getting the thing on and off (I wasn't short of volunteers for help here!!)


I always have a spring in my step but after a whole weekend (extended weekend too) of hours of classes and free styling, not to mention partying, swimming, seaside capers, dining and late nights, I'm quite frankly KNACKERED!

It seemed I am somewhat of a 'lightweight' rolling in at 2am three nights on the trot and functioning with an increasingly glazed, zombie-like appearance as the weekend progressed. I honestly think that another night may well have literally killed me, I would certainly not have appeared at all 'human-like'....perhaps I had already reached that state? It's hard to tell.

I met some lovely people whilst away (the Jive folk are always so friendly and inclusive), and had a jolly good personal experience too with some fantastic classes and some very talented dancers, I even learnt to fly :-) (loving air steps classes).
So home safely, caught up on sleep and booked to go again in November!! :-)