New Gate
It was supposed to be in dappled sunlight. You were supposed to see us in billowing linen, natural highlights glinting, eyes and teeth sparkling.
I cannot describe the depth of the mud, the rivers of water running down our necks, the feeling of having trousers wetter than the flannel at the bottom of the bath and the look Betty gave us as soon as she'd finished her first wee and thought it was time to get back into the car.
The look when we got the tripods out was murderous.
Good Things
Chums
Cava
Wellies
Washing machines
Dry clothes
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