Last Orders

Right here, right now doesn’t seem to exist in this household anymore. Right now, I’m hankering after my evening stroll and they’re flicking through a camping catalogue. They’re not going for another week, for Pete’s sake.
Just tell me why this lure of the outside is so damn complicated. You want to sleep outside? Fine. Do it. Why then do you need to order a £400 tent, more bedding than you can shake a tent pole at (why not just take your lovely smelly bedding from home, I say) and spend hours debating how many saucepans to take and the variety of meals that can be cooked in just one of them.
And a compass? What’s that all about? Surely they can smell their way around wherever they’re going. Heaven knows they smell strong enough so it wouldn’t be that difficult. And torches. Torches so that they can see when they get up in the night. That’s a laugh; I’ve seen them getting up in the night and they usually have their eyes shut. That’s why I sleep half way down the stairs and not at the top otherwise I’d get kicked on a regular basis. Actually, I do get kicked on a regular basis but that’s another story. Anyway, let me tell you, if you have to go outside in the night, you soon learn to control your bladder. Especially after the last visit before bedtime when the grass is cold, wet and you go to sleep with soggy paws. In terms of being at one with nature, there is nothing more sobering than urinating outdoors late at night.