Day two of the Great American Weekend wasn’t so great. I woke up at five-thirty to the sounds of a thunderstorm rolling in. The rain started at six and just kept going. Diehards that we are we set up our booth at ten-thirty, took out our cards, lit some incense and watched it rain. One quarter of the vendors were gone before we got there.
By noon it was obvious that the day was a wash and we made our peace with that. A steady rain was falling at that point and we decided to wait for the next break in the weather and then pack it up. So we sat and talked and laughed and told stories for two hours enjoying each other’s company and waiting for the rain to ease up.
We watched as about half of the remaining vendors donned raingear and dismantled their tents. Most folks had had a good day on Saturday so losing Sunday, while disappointing, wasn’t devastating. As in any large group there were a handful of malcontents but mostly the folks took the weather in stride.
Magdalen’s husband helped us strike the tent. Inside of fifteen minutes I’d retrieved my car, we filled it with our tables, chairs, candles and cloths and were on our way. With the car packed Debbie and I took our soggy selves out to lunch. I didn’t meet any new people, didn’t get to read for anyone, didn’t make any money, but I did have a lovely day with my friends.
Around seven this evening, the sun came out. :::sigh:::
