I dont know how many inches of rain fell on Mull yesterday, but the burns roared, puddles filled, drains overflowed, and a neighbours house narrowly avoided being flooded by the river in spate, and everyone thought what unfortunate weather for the Salen Show the next day.
But this morning, it was drier and so the annual Show went on. Farmer looked after the Sciatica by filling a skip (?) as opposed to standing around all day chatting. (He finally got rid of the coin-op gas fired tumble drier we bought in 1996 from a boatyard on the Ross of Mull, which had become a bit of a fire hazard as well as an old gas cooker that we had kept for the 'just in case', but couldn't re-use because it is no longer legal). Daughter and I left him to it, and went off to share a picnic with cousins at lunchtime and consequently went a little too late to the Show.
Definitely missed most of the excitement though I did find myself taking part in one round of the Tug of War. NEVER before have I done anything so rash, and our end didn't win - my once in a lifetime shot.
At the end of the busy day we had mostly missed, we noticed crowds of footprints treading on footprints in the muddy grooves of livestock vehicle tracks; burger stalls packing up; bins filled with recycling; animals and humans wearing rosettes of all shapes and colours; chatting and greeting; buckets of stock showing equipment; empty cans; landrovers and pickups driving onto the show-field to retrieve their animals.
Debby and Dave on the RSPB stand got rid of all the voting slips for the Nature of Farming Awards. And apparently before we got there we were mentioned over the tannoy - very glad we were late and missed it.
All that goes on, against the back drop of the tide coming in and going out. By the time we circumnavigated this puddle on the way to the car, the tide was in again.