Not the sort you normally associate with me but gusts of it blowing off Exmoor down into Dunster where it met my brand new pink gazebo, blew it off its moorings and broke one of its struts so it leant at a somewhat jaunty angle for the rest of the day. Not only did the climate take on my gazebo but all my stock too so I was trapped in an endless cycle of picking up hats, bags, baskets and dress rails that blew over under the weight of hand smocked clothes. By 1500, dear reader, I had had enough so packed up and was taken home by husband for large drink and decompression in darkened room. To those who did venture into my orbit and bought dresses and bags, I really really love you! You know who you are. Unfortunately, a lack of gazebo meant I could not do my beloved Forde Abbey the next day when, of course, the weather was calm and sunny and perfect, as is today. Sometimes fairs present too much of a challenge and this was made all the worse by the knowledge that this is the first year I asked to be outside instead of in the Craft tent as every previous year it has been so hot you can hardly move. That’ll teach me.