Its that time of year again when we go to the local agricultural show and show people what fun it is to foster children. The apprentice decided to help by setting up camp in the age care tent and refusing to move until fed adequate amounts of biscuits.
While rug rat MkII waited patiently in our tent for bacon butties.
They kept themselves entertained watching the displays in the arena, the observant amongst you will spot the blue sky and lack of rain. The astute will realise that blue sky means one of two things, its either going to rain later or its just rained. Looking at the mud you can gather that it had just rained. Biblical proportion rain. The type of rain that Noah had waited for. I didn't mind the rain as I stepped out of Gerry having driven through the mud to the designated car park. Yours truly in his Red Kite Fostering polo shirt scoffed at the weathers attempt to dampen his spirits as he attempted to put on his heavy duty one million percent waterproof jacket. In the wrestling match that followed with yours truly getting wetter by the second the realisation that the barrier to getting the jacket on was because the jacket was in fact trousers and no amount of body contorting was going to facilitate dryness came just as the rain got heavier.
I dried out around lunchtime. Meantime the gang entertained the gathering hordes
with them making masks.
I took pictures of vehicles I liked, like this
and this
and the apprentice went minimalist on mask making
and in the ring was a tractor the same age as me. One of us has aged better and is more useful.
Bliss telling us its time for bed.
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