Time to boogie?

My man has been invited back to the Rowchester Festival. Last year he was stopped in the street by the guy who runs it, one Leonard Harper-Gow, who's as eccentric as his name suggests, and asked if he'd like to have a stall. Not quite as random as you'd think because Mr H-G had seen the Beloved's monster truck which sports his business on the side and they had a 'meaningful' conversation. And on the strength of that was invited. The only problem was my Beloved was away that weekend and yours truly was stuck with the task of selling items of jewellery and the like for two days of fun and frolics.

Mr H-G was passing the other day and stopped again. He wants a repeat performance, which is good news. And even better is that my man is actually going to be about that weekend and will be running the stall himself, ably aided and abetted by his glamorous side-kick, moi. So that should be fun.

I'd rather thought I was past music festival activity. Especially as for the first four years of the Belladrum Tartan Heart Festival I was asked to be in charge of the 'Lost Property' tent. This essentially meant that people who didn't want to look after their children abandoned them in my care while they went off and had a good time for a few hours. Oh yes, and the amount of car keys that were lost was amazing. I'm surprised that some people actually made it out of the grounds in the end. Anyway, as to the children, I was, on several occasions, tempted to call Social Services. Luckily I moved to the Borders and could happily refuse to do the job anymore as I was too far away.

The reason I got to do the gig in the first place was because the charity I worked for was supported by Joe Gibbs the man at the heart of Belladrum. The first year he did it, all three of us who worked for the charity were roped in to help, and Joe asked me to take charge of the Lost Property. Sadly Joe thought I was so good at it I never managed to do another job and consequently most of my festival time each year was spent in the company of those that were absolutely not rock and roll. Because it was such a chore I vowed I wouldn't work at another festival. But then when my man asked me to help last year I could hardly refuse.

Luckily Rowchester is a whole lot smaller and friendlier than Belladrum, and even though I was stuck behind a stall last year, I had a great view of the stage and was able to feel part of the festivities. I'm hoping it hasn't changed too much this year. And you never know, because my Beloved will be running the stall, I might just have time to idiot dance along with the rest of them.