estdeus_innobis | And may all your Christmasses be white

7th June, early afternoon

Woke up in the caravan feelin' a bit chilly this mornin', an' when I opened the door there was snow everywhere. Faith swore fer about five minutes over that, but once we'd got over the shock a bit we was right excited. Only problem was that we ain't got a lot of warm clothes fer us as we are now, but I reckoned we could make do with our old sweaters an' just pin 'em up a bit, but when I opened the clothes chest I found a red jumper an' a green one. Faith takes the red, o'course, an' we go off onto the Lot. Glad we've got boots, though the snow don't seem slippy at all.

At the cook tent's everyone's chatterin' away, drinkin' 'ot chocolate.

"Best get ready for the day," says Ivy, who runs the dock pond. "Think we'll have lots of customers today."

Don't reckon people'll be too worried about 'aving their fortunes told, though, so Faith an' I decide jus' to stroll round the Midway. It's all lit up with the Christmas lights, an' I dunno 'ow the rousties got 'em up again so fast. Whole place smells of sugar and spices from the food stalls, an' the girls from the Grind'ouse are runnin' about dressed as sexy fairies. 'Ope they don't catch cold. An' once we get to lunchtime, loads of people from town start showin' up. Ain't been this many people 'ere in weeks. 'S nice, an' I sit on a bench near the Carousel - so glad Zann's more or less 'erself again - an' drink a cup of hot cider.

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