When you're 16

I remember being 16, hard as that might seem for some of the family to recognise!

Martha was 16 this week and chose this weekend to celebrate with her friends. Earlier in the week we'd had a family meal of a takeaway curry which seems to be the food of choice for the kids birthdays at the moment. I heartily approve of course...

Anyway, Saturday night was Martha's night and she'd chosen to have a tent party in a farmers field a hundred yards or so out of the village. I didn't really think it was a good idea, based on my experience of a tent party when I was 18... but Liz insisted it would be fine and she'd handle any problems that arose.

I took the Subaru across the fields to get their camping gear there and I left a bunch of happy teenagers putting up tents on a fine autumn evening.




Apparently around 15 or so boys and girls were expected and we'd said we'd just pop by every now and then to see if they were OK. Liz did, I didn't! The last check she made was at 2am by phone to tell them to be quiet as she could hear them from our house.

This morning at around 11am I took Nelson out across the fields and found them all lying around feeling rough after a late night and rather more alcohol than I suspect they should have had. Goodness knows how they got it, as we didn't provide any and I'd be horrified if the parents provided it. Nevertheless it didn't meet my worse expectations and it would appear the night passed without serious incident.

Well Done Martha. Thank you for being sensible (ish!)... and all of your friends for tidying up so well.

Sorry folks of Bishopstone! Hopefully they didn't keep you awake.