Saturday in the field

June 8, 2009

Saturday came, and as feared, so did rain. Not much, but enough to make itself felt in Dalmeny Park, where we lurked upon the grass without table or shelter (we’ve got travelling light down to a fine art), plying wares of a poetical nature. Having picked Lilias up at her house, celebrating her proximity to that part of a town with a tea stop, we trundled forth, knapsacks on our backs. We parked between the tea stall and an eager mob exhorting the virtues of making Leith greener, directly underneath a cartoonishly massive grey cloud in an otherwise blueish sky.

Along a bit, were planters hard at work, a very popular bouncy castle, and a five aside football pitch magically erected by policemen, seemingly within seconds. Basketballers were holding court vigorously some way away directly opposite, and a portrait stall took centre stage.

We had a lovely time, connecting with the passing trade – despite the hilarity of packing our print away at the slightest threat of raindrops – we extolled the virtues of poems about tea, coffee, gardening, golf and Guinness; our Everyman Book of Dog Poems proved most popular and a little face-painted girl (hearts and flowers) liked having Favourite Poems from Childhood read to her. We apologise for not being able to find a fishing poem for the fireman and are glad we reminded an American woman of long time connections to the SPL when she first moved to Edinburgh in the 80s. We had tea with cups and saucers and Polish jam buns.

We phoned Ryan to check his progress. We couldn’t hear each other: Meadows and the Forest stall were pumping. It seems like a good idea to have him tell us how that deployment went down here at Our Sweet Old. Particularly the screen printing. If only Joseph Pearce‘s hadn’t beckoned so attractively for lunch, Lilias and I might just have made it…

One Response to “Saturday in the field”

  1. […] Lorrainebow and David! The Jaffa Cake canon explodes…) I asked Ryan to write a bit about his experience of the Meadows Fest and he […]

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