Got Your Wellies? Let's Take a Walk...

We are very lucky that we are not among the poor families who have had their houses well and truly flooded this weekend - my wholehearted sympathy goes out to them, as I know from my pal Midge over at Soggibottom blog, it is devastating when flood waters invade your home

However, water levels where we are have been rising and this morning's dog walk (doggy paddle?) was interesting to say the least.  This is a bridge over what is normally a trickle of water an inch or two deep. Today it was nearly bursting it's banks.

This is the path behind our house - Clovis is already not impressed and staying on higher ground.

This is a field the other side of the path - it's now a small lake about two feet deep.

The beginning of the path on to a nice field walk.  Clovis was hanging back on dry land refusing to follow me! Can you blame him?

This is not a stream, it's a path - today it has a waterfall.

This is the point we decided to call it a day and turn back - Clovis had to wade through this twice....

This is the path leading to the school where I work.  Last summer they made this path and cleared all the undergrowth and edges of the small pond off to the left here.  Foolish error - it has now burst it's banks for the first time ever, washing across into someone's back garden - I bet they are happy!  It's going to be a lovely walk to school on Monday....

So, after drying off before getting wet again going to the market, it's a home day for me - time to get on with more crafting I think!

A Complete Disaster, Dahling!

I've been quite excited about having a stall at the Tweseldown Artisan Market - over the last few years, my attendance at craft fairs has dwindled as I got a bit fed up with the wear and tear on my stock from being carted to and fro and fingered by sticky-faced children and careless adults.  Plus there is the soul-destroying aspect of hearing your work being discussed as though you are invisible; together with the remarks of 'it's a bit expensive' when you have probably paid yourself less than a sweat-shop worker if an hourly rate was to be worked out.

But yesterday morning I got up at the crack of dawn with enthusiasm, and was even ready, car packed, dog walked, house tidied, daughter fed and dressed, fifteen minutes before we were due to set off.  It was, however, bitterly cold - gone were the spring temperatures of 24 hours previous.

We got to the venue, unloaded the car and took everything to our pitch, which was in the centre of a courtyard, next to a lady selling rather nice sewn bags.  We'd opted for an outside spot as we figured there would be more room to spread - it wasn't just me this time, I had joined up with Jane from Pandoren who sells beautiful hand sewn/knitted childrens' clothing.  Fingers were numb, the wind was whistling through the buildings (one of my paintings blew over and the glass smashed), but we figured once we'd got the gazebo up, we'd be fine.  That was the first of our problems.  My other friend had brought her gazebo for us to borrow but it appeared to be missing a few poles.  We struggled for half an hour (being watched by other stall holders who found this very entertaining but didn't see why they should offer any help other than smart-alec remarks...) but it wasn't going to happen.  Jane had still not arrived at this point, she'd got a bit lost.....

We decided to abandon that gazebo and wait for Jane with hers.  When she eventually turned up, we set to trying to erect the second, much larger, gazebo.  More entertainment for the bystanders but they were starting to get restive as it appeared our gazebo might encroach on their areas by a few inches...plus someone thought it helpful to add that they'd seen one of these event gazebos collapse only last week.  How we kept smiling I do not know.  After a short while, someone else suggested we move around the corner from the buildings where there was a huge free area - which we promptly did and were met by stall holders selling garden plants and accessories who were a whole different kettle of fish. They offered to help, were friendly and no smart-mouths! In no time we had set up and were just about ready for when the gates were open to the public.

It was a very cold and breezy morning, but we were cheerful enough.  However, although there were a lot of visitors, people seemed to keep their wallets firmly in their pockets.  By lunchtime, my daughter had turned an interesting shade of blue, despite wearing a coat, two extra cardigans and being draped in two blankets, so my friend who was going back to walk my dog for me took Stacie with her for an hour's tv in the warm.
While they were gone, disaster struck.  There had been showers on and off throughout the morning and odd gusts of wind, but nothing prepared us for what happened next.

Suddenly the wind picked up and all our stock started flying.  At the same time, the heavens opened - not just rain, but horizontal hail.  Within seconds everything was soaking wet and in disarray. Some kind people hung on to the gazebo for us while  Jane and I ran to put sides onto it as fast as we could but by the time we did so, the damage was done. All the knitted and fabric items were saturated, my boxes containing jewellery were little pools of rain water, and worst of all, my paintings had water within the frames, soaking the mountboard.

This whole squall took less than ten minutes but it was enough to completely scupper any chances we had of making further sales.  After a brief discussion, we decided to pack it all up and get everything home and spread out to dry as quickly as we could and assess any damage.  So we only did half a day, barely sold anything and both felt like having a damn good cry.  I can't even show you my photos of the stall before it got wrecked as they won't load - even the pictures are jinxed!*

Miraculously, on closer inspection this morning, my paintings have dried out with no water stains and I do believe all the knitted shawls and everything else has also dried out with no further casualties. I know that Jane's stock dried out successfully too as we all met up later yesterday evening and had a Chinese takeaway together with copious amounts of red wine - talk about drowning your sorrows!

So some serious thought is required as to whether or not it is worth ever attempting a craft fair again.  I certainly would not have an outside stall again when you have to deal with the capricious British weather.  It was such a shame as this particular artisan market is a lovely event, focussing on local artists and crafts people, with a varied selection of stalls and good attendance by the public.  If only they could control the weather!

*not jinxed, problem with Blogger which I have had to circumnavigate!

Wet Wet Wet

Those of us in the UK are well aware that we are in the midst of a terrible drought....there has been hardly any rainfall for two years now and everything is drying up...we're not even allowed to use our hoses, so can't wash our cars, fill our pools or even water our gardens.

For those of you outside of the UK, let me show you what it means to be in the middle of a British drought.....

...looks suspiciously like a bit of rain to me.  Also, this stream is normally a trickle of about 2 inches deep - today it was more like a raging torrent on the verge of breaking it's banks.

This is not a stream, it's a pathway where I quite often walk the dog.  Clovis is sensible and walks to the side...

.....because it just about comes up to my ankles!

This resigned look from my dog translates as 'Hurry up woman!  I need to get home!'  He had also just surprised a deer and had a flat-out 100mph sprint across the field and back, so was feeling a bit tired.  99% of salukis do not come back when recalled, particularly if they are on the chase - I am so glad that mine falls into the 1% that do, especially in this weather!

It doesn't take long for the ducks to find out where the water is - this ditch is usually just a bit muddy.

So there you have it, a drought in Britain.  I'm off to buy some cubits of wood and start that ark.....