Husky Galore

It's been a few years since I made it down to my mum's for the Wimborne Folk Festival. Morris dancing is not something I actively seek out, but the festival is part of my childhood, and it was nice to hear the familiar music and see all the sides who have been coming for years - the Dorset Buttons, the Quayside Cloggies, the Fez Heads - in their unchanging uniforms.

The highlight for us is the Saturday charity fair on the Minster Green, which always has as its centrepiece an enormous bookstall.



callmemadam didn't say anything about the cuddly Garfield. I think she's given up.

I spent much of the afternoon in the garden reading my spoils, before meeting kowarth for a drink in the evening.

On Sunday we visited the local garden centre, outside which was parked this charming ensemble:



Note authentic dogs: one terrier, one lurcher.

In the afternoon Howard came over, and the two of us had a companionable ride as far as Stockbridge, followed by dinner, before parting company just outside Winchester. I filled up with petrol at the BP by Clapham Common, where a very drunk young man (I assume he lived locally and had walked there) insisted on buying me a Boost bar.