Sunday was Father’s Day and Himself’s choice of venue for our day out. Which meant the Three Counties Show at Malvern. I can’t complain (well I can, I'm very good at it) he wanders around enough National Trust properties & museums with me. It’s a typical country fair and the weather, although not sunny, did manage to remain rain free. Unlike Friday and Saturday when it bucketed down, hence it was a little on the muddy side.




Red Devils Parachute Team
I can't remember this lady's name or much about her career - which is pretty impressive. I do remember her age - 55 - which the Commentator told us about ten times. Bet she loves him.

This was the first year I didn’t have to buy Himself a present from the kids for Father’s day as they are both working, although youngest did give me the money and ask that I go into town to buy his dad's t-shirt – he was at work so couldn’t go himself. Whilst in Sports World I noticed a display of stunt kites, now Himself used to have a thing about kites, so I brought him one.

As a child whenever they visited his grandparents in South Shields, Tyne & Wear his treat for the holiday was always a kite, which he’d then spend hours playing with on the beach. I can still remember going on holiday with his family to sunny Wales when I was 17, he was adamant that he was going to buy a kite.

Now neither of us was able to drive at the time so to get any where we had to walk. The Caravan Park was quite secluded and Himself having stopped there before, claimed he knew the area and that there was some shops just up the lane. Unfortunately I didn’t know just what he was like back then. I’d been going out with him for about 4 months (his parents gave me a room with two beds - all to myself), I was still innocently unaware of his idea of ‘just up the lane’.

A two hour trek and probably about 5 miles later, we found the shops. Luckily for Himself I was still in the heady stages of young love at the time, that and the fact that the shop sold kites – ‘cause no way was I going anywhere else but back to the caravan.

Being Wales the heavens opened on the trek back, which just about made my day. Neither of us had coats and there was no place to shelter, so we just carried on walking. It was a good job really as it continued raining the rest of the day and the best part of the night.

The following day was at least dry but being by the sea, very windy – perfect kite flying weather! The sea was stormy with the waves crashing onto the beach, the sort of thing I would now walk miles for just to take some photos of. Himself set the kite up and I was positioned further away awaiting instructions to launch it into the air. The wind nearly took me off my feet and it was all I could do to hold onto the bloody thing.

Himself gave the order and I threw the kite into the air; it promptly turned around and flew into the sand at my feet. Not one for giving up, Himself came over and gave me instructions for the new plan of action. I would hold the kite above my head and we would both run (young love remember) along the beach, the wind would them lift the kite into the sky.

Which to be fair it did, it was just unfortunate that Himself was running and turning around to look at the kite at the time, so he failed to notice the rock in front of him. Head over heels he went, didn’t hurt himself but he did let go of the kite. Which sail majestically into the air and shot off down the beach. Himself did try to chase after it, but even he could see it was a lost cause. The kite disappeared over the sand dunes.

No, we didn’t go back and buy another one, but it hasn’t put him off kites at all. He used to buy them for the kids when they were small and then take then out and play with them himself. The kids were lucky if they got a go.