There is nothing more
depressing than the sound of rain on a tent. That sound woke me at
3am. I dozed off again. Yesterday the bright sunshine made the tent
too hot and light to sleep in by 6.30am. That didn't happen today. I
got up shortly after 8am, and after a wash watched someone flying six
crow kites. The crow kites were rather clever in that (so I was
reliably informed) each crow was higher than all the others.
We had brekkie (finally)
at 11.30am, and as we washed up so the rain eased off. Yesterday had
been glorious; today was damp. Mind you there were still several
brave souls braving the kite field. I again went to help at the
kiddies workshop. We weren't as busy as yesterday but we still made
lots of kites for lots of children.
After two hours we closed
the workshop. I walked around the festival watching what was going
on. Several campers told me they were going home as the weather
forecast wasn't good. I was tempted to go home a day early, but the
tents were already wet. they weren't going to get any wetter. And
they might dry.
So (as we do in these
situations) we declared Emergency Plan "B" and
settled down for an afternoon pouring beer down our necks whilst we
watched the brave souls struggling to fly kites in a monsoon.
Tea was rather good;
curry always is. After tea we played a game; "Dirty Minds"
is always good for a laugh. But I found myself nodding off so (at
the risk of seeming anti-social) I took myself off to bed.
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