For some reason, though, we decided to get up the same time on Sunday to drive, through the torrential rain, down to Dorset for the death throes of the Great Dorset Steam Fair. I spent a lot of my childhood standing in muddy fields, huddled near hulking steam engines for warmth, wiping coal smuts off my cheeks and longing to go home... As with so many things though, it all seemed a lot more appealing having not been for a few years. It also offered a rare opportunity to see my father in his natural habitat, so off we went.
Thankfully, the rain stopped just as we got there and a comparatively lovely time was had by all.
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| Not quite raining... |
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| I love the coffee-and-cream look of freshly ploughed mud... |
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| Paper music being fed through a showman's organ. (There's no way to write that without it sounding a bit obscene...) |
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My sunflowers have also managed flowers! Finally! There's one that's taller than me, but he's proved rather tricky to photograph.
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