Book Review: The Tent, the Bucket and Me

I don’t usually contemplate this… writing my book review so early as I’ve only managed to read the first three chapters!

Seriously… this book should come with a Health Warning:

Do not attempt to wear mascara or any eye makeup whilst reading this story and ensure that you have ready to hand a constant supply of clean hankies (you will need these I promise) oh and should you suffer from a weak bladder (sorry to bring this up) I would strongly recommend you consider wearing incontinence knickers! There I’ve said it and you might thank me later.

The tone of this story is brilliant and I can promise very accurate. I HATE, LOATHE and DETEST Camping.

Like Emma Kennedy I suffered the indignities of camping all my young life and teenage years, oh the ignominy of it. She has successfully helped me to access and remember many incidents mostly hilarious, and some rather painfully embarrassing moments that I may choose to share in later blog posts.

It is not often I feel that I am so in tune with an author. However on this occasion her descriptions of travelling to Wales ring loud alarm bells in my head, for I too am a girl from the valleys born behind the gasworks, well no not literally, but in my grandmother’s house in Caerphilly, complete with outside carsy and coal bunker the size of a small shed. I feel I’m almost part of Emma’s film set or rather that she was part of mine, really quite scary on so many levels.

I’m not sure who suggested we read this book for our book group meeting but I shall be eternally grateful and I’m very glad they suggested it! Because I can’t recall crying this hard in a long time and I believe that laughing until you cry can be a cathartic experience. Of course the downside of crying whilst reading is that is that one’s eyes fill with tears and blur one’s vision.

I think Emma Kennedy has captured the essence of the 1970’s succinctly because it certainly is how I remember that period of time although I never made it the Biba shop – such a shame truly.

So my recommendation is quite simple: If on an overcast January day when the sky is filled with scumble glazed clouds that are certain to deliver a deluge then I would suggest you find a quiet spot, curl up in an armchair, with a hot chocolate and a box of tissues.

And should you dare to read this book in a public place, be that on the train or in a coffee shop then other customers will want to know why you are in fits of giggles. And there is an added and significant danger… you may end up snorting rather loudly!

Well I’m going back to the book that I can’t actually read as I have to put the book down and dabs away the tears with a tissue.

And I do hope you enjoy this reading treat…