IT'S ON!

Oh my life – today’s the day, and I’ve ducked out of Fair preparations to set up this episode of an everyday tale of country folk.  (IFYYK).  The garden is full of people putting the finishing touches to their stands, of introducing themselves to each other, of alpacas chewing gently, of urns coming to the boil, of Lauren the cellist warming up … it’s as gently barmy and quintessentially English as you’ll get, and it’s lovely to think that in gardens and fields across the country many are doing the same.  We wouldn’t have ordered quite this weather, but being British we’re used to far worse – and my father would unfailingly remark in such circumstances that having been born with waterproof skin, it would be shame to waste it.  (This as yet another pulse of ice-cold, needle sharp rain came in off the sea and hurled itself at us as we ploughed on with whatever it was we were trying to achieve at the time – usually with not quite the right tools, and always with more hope and enthusiasm than skill.)  Our own stand is ready and waiting – a rarity for us as we’re often finishing off as people approach – and I will admit to a glow of pride: it’s rather special to have all this happening, plus our own stock on sale, in our very own back yard.  We’re so highly organised and generally magnificent that I’ve even – unlike last year – got extra loo roll in place for the portaloos!  I ask you – what could possibly go wrong?!