Marooned at the end of the Garden

WE have been marooned in our House on Wheels (aka the caravan) - and we were only at the bottom of the garden!

Having gone down there to check things over we were caught in a torrential downpour of monsoon-like proportions, so we shut the door and sat inside snug as two bugs in a rug.

At least we know it is warm and dry, with no leaks. The water pump works; the cooker works and the lights work off the battery. So far, so good!

We have been equipping it with the essentials: pots, pans, tin opener,knives forks, spoons, plastic plates, dishes, mugs and a chemical loo (I have no intention of trekking across a muddy field to 'spend a penny').

I've gathered up the towels wrecked by The Daughters' hair dye, the oldest tea towels, some spare pillows, and have even bought myself a sleeping bag.

The Man of the House, who already has his own sleeping bag, says it should be replaced in its cover each morning to keep it neat and tidy, but since I have trouble getting a quilt into a duvet cover I have little hope of success. It will, I fear, be like trying to get an orange back into its peel.