When your husband asks you if you’re “up for a dirty weekend in the woods” it doesn’t take long to feel young and excited again (and rather bloody daring too). At our age, with my health considerations, the idea of camping-out under the stars in a woodland with no traffic or airplane noise is about as daring as it gets
There’s nothing quite like a dirty weekend; especially as I am usually obsessed with whether my hair and clothes are clean. This weekend we got absolutely filthy making charcoal and it was wonderful. As I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the car mirror, charcoal smeared across my chin and left cheek, I smiled with pleasure at the joy a simple task had brought us.
when I say “simple task” I should say that in truth, my task was the only smple one this weekend: “Bring a book and turn your phone off” had been John’s instructions to me. Meanwhile, he, Guy and Casper would be running the charcoal kiln for the second time. A significant milestone in our steps towards a new life.
The weekend was filled with a sense of peace, even as the smoke billowed from the chimneys in the kiln, I was aware that this feeling had been absent from our lives of late. There’s been a lot of “noise” in the last few years and I felt it quieten as the hours ticked by.
As we settle down to watch the F1 highlights, having showered for so long the water’s gone cold, we smile at each other. “Did you enjoy the weekend babe?” john asks me. “loved it.” I reply. “Feel better now you’re all lovely and clean? He asks. “actually” I chuckle “I liked being dirty!”