Today was the day of the Tendring Show. I'd been hoarding change all week for the floats, swapping ten pound notes with my parents for coins and fivers, and sauntering into the local Tesco Express to buy one bottle of shower gel with a tenner, while the Systems Administrator kindly allowed me to raid the change pot in the study, as long as I gave it back afterwards. The SA likes to have the right money in the farm shop, and is now such a regular customer known for giving the exact amount that they will waive the odd pennies from time to time, and tell the SA to pay them tomorrow, on days when the SA doesn't have the precise money. I wimped out of helping set up the show stand yesterday, on the grounds that last year I didn't really have anything to do and merely stood about in a field to show solidarity, while I did have loads to catch up with in the garden, but last night I made up my floats on the kitchen table.
It is a lovely show, not too big, and with the emphasis still heavily on the agricultural. There are goats, and sheep, and cattle, and heavy horses. I love the way that sheep sit quietly in their pens, while goats are always arguing with the goats in the next stall, or searching for something to eat, or maybe planning their escape route. There are equestrian competitions, which I personally can take or leave. It's the shire horses and Percherons that do it for me. There are blood hounds, fox hounds and beagles. There are stands selling chalk and combine harvesters, which don't look welcoming if you aren't a farmer, though I did manage to ask a man selling seed potatoes why he thought that so many farms around here were growing potatoes this year. His answer was that he did not know, but guessed it was because the price of potatoes had been so high last year.
There are fancy chickens, and fancy rats, and rabbits, and pigeons. I'm not a great fan of rabbits and pigeons. Even in cages they remind me too much of the marauders that eat my garden, while the rats are too much like the ones that moved in under our shed a couple of winters ago. The poultry are great, and I was witness to a shouting match between a turkey and a goose, the turkey gobbling at the goose which in turn screeched back.
There are vintage cars, loads of them parked in their own ring while their owners sit beside them on deckchairs, and one splendid vintage caravan that comes every year. The Morris Men are also a regular feature. It must be a happy side, because I recognise the faces each time, and reckon that staff turnover is minimal. This year there was a Scottish pipe band, and a steel band who were supporting the WaterAid stall, while drowning out the RSPB warden and his team on the next pitch. The Essex Wildlife Trust were there, and tried very hard to get me to sign up on the spot, but I preferred to think about that later. There were owl rescuers, and bat rescuers, and falconers, and a terrier club. The local wildfowlers had some beautiful photographs of the Walton Backwaters and some vintage firearms, but no wildfowl, while next to the terrier club a taxidermist was stuffing a small dead bird.
There are retail opportunities, of course, though I spent so long considering whether I really wanted a Polish china serving bowl that the one I particularly liked had already sold. I can probably track the firm down on the web later, though their publicity material was a bit hit and miss. I'd thought of buying an olivewood board for serving cheese, but the olive oil firm wasn't there this year. I picked up a card from a young woman who made rather nice ceramic plaques that can be used outside, and might revisit her work at some stage, if I find a place that needs a little decoration. I don't like buying things with no clear idea of where to put them. Instead I contented myself with a poster on bumble bee identification.
Oh, and there was the beekeeping tent. I thought my colleagues had put together a really good display this year. There was honey for sale, and wax candles, and cakes made with honey. There were two honey bee flat observation hives, a bumble bee colony in a box, and a mock up of a cavity wall with more honey bees, one side of the wall perspex to show how feral colonies make their nests inside buildings. There was beekeeping equipment, information on neo-nicotinoids and swarming, a display of candle making, and a German straw skep covered in dung which is a new addition to our props collection. The honey show had its own separate gazebo, and after the Show Secretary's panic about the low number of entries she had managed to rustle up a respectable quantity of honey, cakes and candles, which with our collection of trophies on display looked very fine.
I got out of helping take the stand down, because I had to guard the money. All that remains now is to pay it into the bank, and crunch the numbers.
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