When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me. And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells And run my stick along the public railings And make up for the sobriety of my youth. I shall go out in my slippers in the rain And pick the flowers in other people's garde

You might be surprised to discover (!) after spending the weekend camping at Machynlleth Comedy Festival I’ve come home thinking about humans. What a glorious 3 days. It felt like the coming together of a family. A temporary little village. A collective downing of tools.

A few weeks ago, I had my first Kambo* experience. But to be honest, this isn’t really a story about Kambo, it's a story of many parts.