Doing scary things before I grow up.

So here we are. Right now I'm sitting in a bar that was built in 1753 (we think, but it's cold and I'm not going back outside to check). There's wi-fi, but only just, so this might wind us as a text-only post! It's the cutest place ever. Big log fire, all the chairs are made from barrels and there are ancient dead things mounted all over the walls.  We're staying at a campsite somewhere near Ullswater, and it's pretty special. The other campers are all clustered round the fire comparing their favourite corners of the lakes.

We've even got a "camping pod" in place of lugging a tent around. Having spent all summer putting up and taking down tents for other people it was quite nice to get away just to have a bit of a holiday.

Thinking this week about how I'm absolutely petrified of a bunch of the things around me. And is that a bad thing because I haven't found a way to get comfortable doing fairly normal things? Or is it a good thing because I am still choosing to go and do things I am shit-scared of? Here's three scary things by way of example.

Scary thing number 1. 

Yesterday I had my second shot at teaching the Advanced class for our local branch of the Royal Scottish Country Dance Society. These are the people who do Scottish Country Dancing Properly, because they get to decide what Properly is. They have serious fun. They have written the rule book for something that maybe, dare I say it, is a form of Folk dance and likely doesn't need to have quite so many rules. It's a good class, and I'm stoked to be teaching it, but it is a million miles away from what I'm used to. What I'm used to is yelling at bunch of easy-going students, and generally pushing and pulling them around till they go in about the right direction and then calling it a success. They learn how to survive, and they learn it quick and they have fun. It has to be fun, else next week there'd be no-one there to teach.

Scary thing number 2.

Tomorrow I am going horse-riding. With L, who went riding every weekend of her childhood.

Scary thing number 3.

We're going to Alton Towers. The day after tomorrow. Now I am scared of crowds and prone to motion sickness, so we'll see how this works out. I have very carefully planned that we have somewhere comfy and close by to stay (ok, it's another timber-tent set-up, but there'll be beds and heating) the night before and the night after. All I have to worry about is doing a day at Alton Towers and not losing my friends. And if it all goes wonky I'll go on the carousel and enjoy myself all the same.

None of these scary things are as easy as talking to your parents about a wedding, and I managed that.

I promise there will be photographs of scary things numbers 2 and 3, you can have them next week. Wish me luck.