Hoorah! I can relax, sort of, now we have done the show. We arrived on Saturday evening and nearly went straight back home. The wood was well boggy and, even with wood chips down, the ground was like a huge sponge oozing mud. We set to putting up the tent and Tree thought it would be easier if the van was nearer to the pitch. At this point I must say that I knew this was a bad idea, but left her to it. Minutes later and the van was stuck in huge ruts of mud. I dug out the wheels but we couldn't get any traction. Lucky for us there was the man, with his Romany caravan, who had a tractor. This made light work of pulling us out and we resumed pitching up, saying no more about it. It was now getting dark and we just finished before the last edge of light sank below the horizon. We were the only people staying in the wood overnight apart from the caravan guy, and his two friends, who were pitched in the field outside. We settled down for the night, listening to music, played by the guys in the field. One was playing the fiddle and the other a mandolin. In the background, a Vixen howled every once in a while. It was quite magical.
I awoke early to hear my first cuckoo of Spring and the call of a rookery sounding out around the woods. By now it was raining and we had doubts about the whole show. As other stallholders arrived the consensus was that we would only take money from each other, as no-one else would show up. 10 a.m came and went with no sign of a rush. 11 a.m and the rain eased a bit but we hadn't taken more than £20. But we had underestimated the wellie brigade and all of a sudden we were busy with people everywhere. By the end of the day we had taken more than last year!!! Result.
In view of this, Tree and I may go back to doing the festies full time instead of the shop, but time will tell.