There's nothing quite like an English village fete
This morning, it belted down on the conservatory roof, filled the sides of our Dorset roads with streams and lashed the hanging baskets.
And then the sun came out.
Which was just as well because it was Loders Fete.
Muscle Man, the grounds are alive with shrieking children, ice creams, stalls selling bric-a-brac, antique valuations, Otter beer, teas, plants and a horde of home-made cakes.
The cars keep on arriving in the car park hours after the fete opens.
'It's a popular one, this,' says a lady as she crosses the ha-ha and pays her £1 entry, with her Panama-hatted husband by her side.
It's the quintessential English country fete, the backdrop for a Midsomer Murders scene and it's not changed a bit since the music on the playlist was first popular.
England at its best.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x