But, then again . . . . .

By TrikinDave

Bongo Band.

After the baking - both successes and failures - and the panic, came the reality. I had been hoping for bad weather, earthquakes and tornadoes would have been nice, failing that, torrential rain and gales or, I would even have settled for a mildly damp mizzle - if that was all the gods had on offer. As it happened there was warm sunshine out of a clear sky and my private predictions of no food to sell and no one to sell it turned out to be false. I even managed to come away with just enough food to sell at the cinema tomorrow night. A profit of over £200 was made which will buy some hardcore to improve paths, saplings to grow into bushes for birds' nests, or even some wood to make bird boxes. The only problem was that I didn't have any time to see what other people were doing around the field.

The bongo band was noisy, monotonous, and too close to the refreshment tent, but it did provide this hastily taken blip; I'm not sure if the dancer was part of the band but I just love the interaction between her and the guy in the striped pyjamas.

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