Of Pants and Duvets and Jiggling Boobs...

This time LAST week we were in the throes of the Newbury Time Out and bless me, it's a whole week later. Where does the time go? I'm going to be an old age pensioner before I know it...

And what a fab Time Out it was. Everyone kept coming back with one particular comment (apart from the classes being great, and the food being great, and the challenges being great...). What a relaxed, chilled out, calm, peaceful retreat it was (which everyone loved). I'm telling you, the atmosphere was so laid back, it had a pillow and a duvet. Not so much swing your pants as put on your big big pants and a comfy set of of PJs.

Duvet. Talking of which...

The hotel staff, bless 'em, hid my duvet on Saturday night. After the retreat finished and we'd tidied up and packed up, most of us headed for the bar and just chatted, and laughed about Sue's comment about changing your pants (had to have been there) among other things. And one by one people either left or went to bed. Finally at about 1am Sue, Fiona and I headed upstairs. I went to go in my room and I couldn't get in...the hotel seemed to think I'd left and my key didn't work. So I had to disturb Sue and Fiona to ring down to reception for the lovely little duty manager to come up and let me in. Hooray. Finally get in the room...no duvet. Where's me bl**din' duvet, thinks I. Now I knocked once more on Sue and Fiona's room. "My duvet's disappeared." I think they took another half an hour to get to sleep because they were in gales of giggles. Beggars.

Anyway, it turns out housekeeping (bless 'em and all their cotton dusters) had put one of their own duvet covers on my duvet. Of course. As you would. Sigh. Duvet found, I finally get into bed. And then I lie there thinking, "Where's my new AMM tote bag and Basic Grey notch tool?" as you do (my pressie to me for organising the retreat). I realised they were both still sitting in a box in the corridor where we'd been sorting out all the goodies for the prize-giving. Couldn't sleep. Some pesky scrapbooking fiend would come along and nab them, evil swines. Get up again, get dressed...trot downstairs (boobs a jiggling and no shoes...I wasn't bothered about putting on either a bra or footwear...I was on a scrapbooking mission and a girl has to do what a girl has to do). I found the box (hooray) and hauled the whole thing upstairs. It's now 1.30am or more. If they had CCTV they must have thought I was barking.

Good point.