Friday, 17 September 2010

SCRAPBOOK 21

Some of the family late 30s.with the newest thing in flysheet tents.I can still remember the interior smell of groundsheet and damp grass.
Geraldgee  lower left.
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9 comments:

  1. Martin17 September 2010 at 07:38

    Great photograph. It's always love at first sight when kids meet tents.

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  2. Britta17 September 2010 at 19:25

    And the warning of our parents: don't touch the fibre of the tent when it is raining - by that the rain will come through... and the weird feeling in the cheeks when one had blown-up an air mattress with one's breath...( and if one had too much air in the pillow - hard to get the bung out - and then: phhhtt - too much air out, can feel the underground, start again) But I think it's the smells that are bringing remembrance back in a whiff...

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  3. Rinkly Rimes18 September 2010 at 09:37

    We had a seasonal (hired) tent on the beach at Margate and I can still smell the paraffin cooking ring!

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  4. geraldgee18 September 2010 at 13:46

    Pitter patter of rain on the tent......Early morning chill...

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  5. Rosie18 September 2010 at 15:12

    Ha, ha. I slid down a wet field in Switzerland inside my dad's old army tent with my parents running behind screaming..."Unzip!"I loved the smells and looking at the stars, collecting mushrooms. My dad knew them all.The rain is still one of my favourite sounds.

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  6. geraldgee18 September 2010 at 16:26

    Burnt baked potatoes in the fire...how far does the torch shine?

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  7. Rosie20 September 2010 at 11:48

    Watch out for the slugs..the sand in the mussels, bad tempered sheep. Ah but the hiss of the gaslight. Falling off the top bunk in a caravan and not even waking up...parents shouting "Please, please wake up!"

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  8. geraldgee20 September 2010 at 12:07

    Cows that think tents are edible

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  9. Maki21 September 2010 at 03:59

    That is so small tent! I bring my small tent too, with my bike.^^

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