Just back off holiday. Blimey the English stick out on beaches in the South of France, only me with specs on and a sensible hat - don't even mention body hair. Even more in love with the Volvo after 1000+ smooooth motorway miles with the aircon on and the cruise control cynically pegged at 89.5mph and the complete works of J K Rowling keeping the kids from endless I-spy.

On return J Tillman tickets have now sold out pretty much.

This weeks big issues apart from mopping up the mess from 2 weeks without web access (if you run a web business like me) are to talk to the man who owns the caravan park adjacent to our festival site, sort out the main festival tent, create a contacts database, and make a start on the festival website without which no marketing activity can proceed.

The tent thing is interesting. We have for a while fancied what is called a 'stretch tent'. These are pretty new and very sophisticated looking. Only a handfull of companies hire these out, none of whom are in the North of England. The hire price seems to be about one third of the purchase price which is obviously making us wonder whether we can buy one to use ourselves but also to hire out. Much depends upon business link grants as to whether we go ahead we think. Suffice to say as far as tents go they are lush (to the max).

The website will probably start life as a holding page of some sort. Not sure whether to include the contents of this blog on it as sometimes you can know too much about the fragile state of an organisation's foundations. Starting to think that I'm thinking about the branding of this thing too hard. If you design stuff for a living like I sometimes do having a totally blank canvas (i.e. no logo or anything and a brief which you can change) is a bit daunting.

The main problem with this festival is that the other things in your life do not stop. Kids have to be looked after still, the garage needs tidying (just finished that including getting some dubious items into the non-recyclables skip at the tip, under the noses of the Nazi waste operatives - a small victory against the council) Both Kate and I have our own businesses which take priority over festival organisation if we want to ever go on holiday again.

A twenty something very sweet girl walks past wearing a pink tshirt and shorts that are almost hotpants, the back of her tshirt reads 'Not too shoddy Helen Roddy'. True.

A mum of three stood by her tent mentions to her friend something about her new £4000 boob job. All us boys stop in us tracks eager to see the results and she is happy to obligue. Very friendly. We tip our hats to the skill of the surgeon like gents.

Our next door neighbours in the camp site are trying to boil a kettle with a small handful of grass, hay at best.

A 15 minute slice of Kendal Calling, a three day festival near Penrith. The above is furthur evidence that the best things at this kind of festival are not the bands but the people. About one third of which have some sort of fancy dress/face paint. This festival formula is unlikely to be followed that closely by us, but after 3 tins of IPA and some very good company I could swear that I was journeying a class A experience. So infectious is the atmosphere, so friendly are the revellers and so much to look at, and laugh at.

The usual roller coaster of emotions and fragile festival states of mind - all based upon the weather and levels of various stimulants.

On the whole a good vibes, good value weekend for the audience who are mostly under thirty and local we presume. £70 for the weekend, £5 to park. The Streets/The Zutons/Ash headline the main stage. I don't catch any band which I really like. I'm sure there were some. We spend half of Saturday sat in the camp site drinking tea, coffee, whisky and canada dry whilst chatting. My favourite period of the festival, make mental note.

Late Saturday night brings a slight public domestic between Kate and me. If you get up at 7.30am with a hangover and consume 10 tins of cheap lager over the next 10 hours by 11 pm you've had enough and your tent with self inflating mattress beckons.

But much food for thought on a jolly weekend in the lakes.