I wrote recently about driving through what seemed like a washing machine. Today, in Stroud, we were on the rinse cycle.
Marion and I were judging at the Stroud Show. The storm had flashed, banged and clattered throughout most of last night and sure enough, we woke this morning to rain. It looked fairly set in even as I picked her up but as we drove into Stroud, it became torrential. There was a fountain in the middle of the roundabout on Stratford Road because the drains simply could not cope with so much water. We waited until it eased off a little and made a run for the horticultural marquee.
There were some beautiful entries and I spent a lovely couple of hours working with my steward, Gill, marking first the staging and interpretation and then the crafts themselves to find an eventual winner. The whole time, we could hear the rain hammering on the roof of the marquee and we wondered if it was ever going to stop.
By lunchtime, the rainstorm had still not passed over and we gazed over the showground anxiously. Would anyone bother to come out on a day like this? We hoped they would, because such events take so much organising and it’s heartbreaking to see all that effort go to waste.
But by now, people were getting a little fed up, even if they were still smiling. This little torrent of water was inside the marquee and occasionally ran down the back of whoever happened to be sitting underneath it!
Of course, some clever ones had brought their umbrella and were standing underneath it, wondering what all the fuss was about.
Whilst others stayed under their tarpaulin, waiting for their chance to shine.
Because some things happen come rain or shine and there’s plenty of us who don’t really mind if we get wet.