Gaia #2

Our days among the Gaia Tribe were relaxed and happy.

Everyone we met was friendly and kind.

The food was just fabulous, all vegetarian and so tasty.

Jumping boy, pictured here, ate mostly bread and refused the amazing vegetable soups and stews and moussakas and salads and Mexican dishes.

There were loads of us camped out in a field in Yorkshire.

The photo below was taken on day one when it was hot and sunny.

Subsequent days were raining, windy and at times cold, with some bursts of sunshine that brought everyone out.

At night I was pretty miserable at times.

I knitted when I could.

Drank tea and read books to Frank.

We explored the site, hung out in the tent and went to the tent where the Story Teller held his audience spellbound for 45 minutes every evening.

We met good, good people.

And from all walks of life.

I took part in a Compassionate Communication workshop, which I enjoyed very much.

Frank loved it all.

Rain, wind and sun he is a happy camper.

At night he slept well, much better than either me or Budd.

He made friends and ran about all day.

Fruit? Check. Muesli? Check. Wasabi peas for Mama's evening fix? Check. Enough insulin to put half the camp in comas should we choose to misadminister it? Oh, yes.

For the first time Frank also wore this cute but oh so hippyish jumper. It was warm and kept him toasty. Since returning home he won't wear it. Ah, well...

Origami boats from one of the activities in the children's tent.

Fun down at the river.

Frank took this one of our fire circle.

That's me looking like I'm doing some awkward Tai Chi moves.

And as we packed up I sneaked a shot of my boys trying to get all the air out of the air mattresses. So cute. And so stripey!

On the Type 1 front Insulin was easy to administer but we got it wrong by underestimating a few times and he ran too high, a result, I think, of his high carb bread and fruit diet. We had paid for the food in advance and were not willing to forego such great meals ourselves. So, we ended up cooking meat or omelettes for him in our tent when we could and letting him live on bread the rest of the time.
It was far from ideal and that as well as my desire to be "WARM, for the love of God", at night saw us decamping a day early and taking my cold extremities and Frank's high blood sugar in hand.

Within 24 hours he was much better.

And breathe.

This was out first experience of a festival of this kind. I don't think it will be our last BUT with Type 1 Diabetes in the mix it was hard work at times with meals being delayed in the cafe tent and different foods being on offer along with no nutritional information to work with.

These issues are so far outside the realms of most people's concerns that I don't even bother talking about it much or indeed fretting about it. It is what it is for us.

This is the language we speak because this is our world.

I also didn't like the feeling of seeing "No Service" on my mobile. If Frank has to be bluelighted anywhere I want the ambulance to arrive quickly.

There was unease. Mild but constant (and more than usual, before you ask!).

Is it a weakness to admit this or a strength to just be realistic, because I know that I am JUST NOT WILLING to do things anymore where the element of risk leaves me wrecked.

I have a duty of care. But then also, I feel, a duty of care for the quality of our lives.

Where do the two meet?

Holidaying with other T1D families?

We'd sure enough have enough juice to go round and enough cake frosting for any last minute birthday cake emergencies.

Now that's an idea...

Anyone fancy freezing their butts off in Yorkshire next year?!