My mum enjoys patchwork and quilting, and had heard that there was an exhibition on at Radstock Museum, so she and my dad came down for the weekend so that she could go to see it.
I had also booked a ticket for the Melksham Comic Con (The first, and still very small, con in Melksham), so I spent the morning making beds and buying things to cook, then went over to Melksham where I caught Paul Cornell's talk about writing comics (and novels and TV), which also wandered off into discussions about otters, kangaroos and seahorses, with regard to their child birth and parenting (Paul and his wife are of course expecting a baby, in October), It was fun.
I didn't have time to stay long, but the con seemed well organised, and seemed to be appealing to a wider audience than is often the case - there was someone modelling balloons, so visiting children could have their own 'Captain America' shield, or 'Hulk' arms, and a full size, remote control R2D2, and a storm trouper or two attracted a lot of attention.
My parents arrived on Saturday afternoon, and we spent the rest of the day catching up, and eating, and things like that.
On Sunday, mum and I went to the museum while my dad stayed home to watch the Grand Prix.
I'll admit that my interest in the quilts was fairly lukewarm, but I enjoyed seeing them, and then looked round the museum itself , which is tiny, volunteer run, and a little frustrating in having a distinct lack of information about many of the exhibits.
However, it's a pleasant enough way to spend an afternoon, and I had come prepared with a book so was perfectly happy, after exhausting the pleasures of the museum, to sit and wait and read until my mum had had her fill of the quilts!
Unfortunately I didn't have a copy of the catalogue so can't credit the makers of these two quilts, but all the quilts were made by people with a connection to the local quilt shop, Midsomer Quilting - customers, students of the classes run there etc, so most will be local.
All in all, it was a good weekend. My parents stayed over Sunday night, and having gone to bed before them, I found it oddly comforting to lie in bed, listening to the muffled sound of their voices downstairs - like being a child again, and knowing that everything was alright, because they were there! I was tempted to go and ask if they would come up and read me a bed time story, but I decided that wasn't really practical!