In the bag

This weekend we put in and appearance at a steam and vintage rally near Chester, the weather was perfect for such an event and it certainly brought out a crowd. We wandered around, taking pictures and remembering most of the vehicles from our childhood years.

There was no such thing in those days, as "Carbon footprints" and the military truck on the left made that quite clear, with a fuel consumption of 1 mile per gallon at best we were told. We mooched around, looked at the trade stands etc. while Meg plodded along beside totally unimpressed. I paused to take a look at a stall where the guy made and sold walking sticks, I was interested to see the techniques he employed and the materials he used for making the handles. With some embarrassment I stood while Meg adopted that arched back stance that dogs do when they decide to evacuate their bowel. Now I don't remember what Meg had eaten the day before, but it came out even more quickly than she can eat. Sheepishly I pulled out a "Doggie bag" from my pocket and carefully placed my hand inside, making sure that it contained no holes and covered my hand right up to my wrist. This was not going to be nice! the offensive deposit had all the consistency and form of custard. I leaned forward, trying to keep my nose as far away as possible from the noxious substance when it happened.........My phone, leapt forward from my shirt pocket and landed right in it like a flake in a "99". With two fingers I carefully removed it and placed it on the grass while with the other hand I tried to scoop up the slippery mass into the safety of the bag. Oh my god, I did not want to do this. With sufficient content in the nappy sac, to make the recovery look effective I knotted the bag, recovered the phone in a second bag and made myself scarce with some haste. Please don't call me, I'll keep you posted.