Up at 6am, there at 7.45, torrential rain, marque up, soaking to the bone.
Dress on, make up slapped on, wedges on, wish I’d brought wellies.
Champagne, more champagne, lead the guests into the grandstand, more champagne.
More rain, more rain, lead them back down for cream tea.
Clearing up, marque down, pack away, traffic jams, home at 9.45pm.
The simplified version of a working day at the races. To be fair I just dont have much energy left to explain in better detail.
I can see it would be so much more fun to do it with mates, grab a picnic and some cava, and dress up. What with all the rain, my hair just got frazzled and I always feel better when my hair looks ok!