I thought about titling this post as Camp Backhouse” but then that would lead to all sorts of rumours about that time I went fly-fishing. Instead — I have called this post Family Field Trip 2017” — for it is the largest gathering of our sect of family since Granny’s funeral at Easter. It was really great to see everyone and make memories.’ There were a few cousins who could not make it due to prior commitments but there was a good representation.

Me and Kathryn caught the bus to Ripon on Friday and mum cooked. We pegged it all the way to Derby down the M1. After a quick drink, we set up for the night.

…. I then realised I had left my medication in Yorkshire!

I called 111 and spoke to a couple of people after they had phoned me back. An appointment was made for the following morning at 0810 in the nearest town — there would be medication, just not that night. I messaged my brother on Whatsapp to tell him of the pickle I was in and he said to meet at breakfast as he had just rolled into the hotel with his wife and daughter. I was going to be spending a night in a hotel unmedicated!

I actually managed to sleep for a bit despite not having my medication — It was full of lucid, weird dreams that felt like reality. I am of the opinion you should not tell about your dreams in public so I will keep them close to my chest — but they involved a lot of celery and high-heels.

Morning came and I awoke tired — hot-footing it down to two plates of cooked breakfast and then whisked along the Sir Frank Whittle Way to Derby Emergency Health Centre — I was tripping balls by the time we got there and did not really enjoy the Abba that was being piped into the waiting area. I had an appointment and was seen prompt where I was issued my prescription — I really can’t fault the NHS for the help they gave me. They recommended that we head out to a retail park in my brother’s car.

Boots was the destination and Jas Dhillon was the super-pharmacist who bent over backwards to ensure that I got my help. She really was a star — I took her name and I will phone Boots HQ to praise her. She was ace and a Yorkshire lady too. Fair enough, Boots is not yet Nationalised and they do not pay their %%% of tax having relocated to Switzerland. But, Jas gave me hope that the company is more than just the decisions of its board members. She was a warm-hearted individual who put me at ease and took charge of the whole shenanigans. Whilst we waited for my script to get corrected, we went for a coffee and I told my brother, who I affectionately call Nobhead, where he went wrong with his driving. The coffee tasted good.

The rest of the day was spent at Heights of Abraham — not the best place for someone in smart shoes, symptoms of a psychotic relapse and with a bad knee — the first two were my fault, but I cannot take the blame for the bad knee. Geological, cable-car amazement was had by all and memories were made.’

The highlight of the Saturday was the 21+ person meal. We all sat down at the restaurant at Breadsall Priory and tucked into a hearty meal — I was running on vapours after a rough night and had to leave earlier than The Norm (whoever he is).

Still plenty of vivid dreams — the next day we went for a stroll around an area of natural beauty & then we bid farewell to each other …. until next time.

Andrew

Andrew Backhouse is a Yorkshire-based artist working with time-based media and digital collage. He is a self-confessed radio geek and he hopes to share his wonder. He also wants to share his naivety and enthusiasm for finding something interesting. Henri Chopin, AGF, and RuPaul influence Andrew’s artistic enquiry. Documenting “The new shiny thing,” Andrew tries to share his excitement for it. But, he also asks about its authenticity and worth.

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