Follow me Judie, Blu the Labrador, and Wendy the motorhome on crafting adventures, affiliate tips, and dog-friendly travel stories.”

I`m just a crazy lady in her 50`s living her best life with my dog Blu beside me. Here you will find the good, bad & ugly of my daily going on`s.

I`m an Affiliate/Digital/Email Marketer, which funds my craziness - All my

eBook's, teaching & posts are free. If you would like a question answered then

please do use my contact page.

Some of my links are affiliate links and I might earn a commission from them

🐾 My First Night in Wendy: Beans, Birds & Bewilderment at Hookpit Farm

So there I was—me, Blu the Labrador, and Wendy the motorhome—setting off for our very first night away at Hookpit Farm.

I’d booked online like a tech-savvy legend (one night only, just in case I accidentally set fire to something).

The site had five pitches, all with something called EHU. I assumed it was a fancy acronym for “Extra Helpful Unicorns.” Spoiler: it’s just electric hook-up. Who knew?

We arrived, parked up on a hardstanding pitch (which I thought meant “emotionally resilient”), and admired the view. And what a view! Miles of countryside, the kind of sunset that makes you want to write poetry or at least hum dramatically while holding a cup of tea.

Blu was thrilled. He sniffed every blade of grass, rolled in something suspicious, and tried to eat a pinecone. Wendy stood proud, her 20-year-old chassis gleaming in the golden light. I felt like a proper motorhome adventurer.

Until the electricity went off.

Cue panic!

I checked the fuse box. I checked the kettle. I checked Blu (just in case he’d chewed something important). Nothing. Then I spotted them: two magpies perched on my EHU lead, looking smug. Apparently, they’d decided my hook-up cable was the perfect perch for their evening gossip. One flapped, the other squawked, and pop—no power.

I reattached the cable like a seasoned electrician (read: I wiggled it and hoped for the best). Lights came back on. I declared victory. The magpies gave me side-eye and flew off, probably to sabotage someone else’s kettle.

Dinner was a gourmet affair: baked beans on toast.

Blu had kibble with a side of envy.

We dined like royalty, surrounded by the hum of nature and the faint smell of toast.

Breakfast the next morning? Croissants with strawberry jam. I felt like I was in a French film, minus the beret and existential angst.

Hookpit Farm, you were a dream. Five pitches, one confused woman, one cheeky dog, and two delinquent magpies.

I’ll never forget our first night—because nothing says “motorhome life” like beans, birds, and bewilderment.

Stayed tuned for the visit to the canal and a castle in Odiham (who knew)