On Saturday afternoon I was stood at the entrance to the campsite talking to Geoff Pickles, the director of Cleckheaton folk festival.
I remarked about the reasonable state of the field where the tents were pitched after the deluges of the last three weeks.
"Aye" he said "but when I came down on Thursday to take a look it was still covered in two inch of water in certain areas"
They had laid yard upon yard of metal gridding on the entrance to the site for the cars and campervans to drive over, sand was poured at the entrances to the wash rooms and toilets but remarkably, apart from the ground being a little soft, there were areas that were fine for pitching.
Geoff carried on to say "I have been spent the last week on my knees praying, and thank the Lord, he was listening...he looks after this little bit of Cleckheaton y'know"
The sun kept shining all the way through the weekend and apart from a little bit of mud on the bottom of my jeans when I went off course on the way to the Loo in the middle of the night, there were no ill consequences of the past rain at all
T'old man had a hot bath awaiting me when I arrived home and boy, did I need it.

post script.
I was in the town hall concert room this afternoon when I received a text from Bella...it read.."Happy Anniversary"
Ooops ...I'd forgotten again, that fateful day 24 years ago!!
It was alright though 'cos he'd not remembered either

Back tomorrow