a fairground life

About 25 years ago I went to a small village on the Scottish Borders. It was a very small fair on a very narrow bit of tober (land) in between the village bowling club and the river. I was there with the old paratrooper. This was when "b" and I travelled with my grandmother. It was a very tight get in as the access was narrow and at the bottom of a steep hill with a 90 degree turn into the funfair area. This was a last minute fill in for us and we missed the main night as we left the fair early to return to our regular run of fairs. About 5 years later I returned again, this time I was married. The amount of equipment had increased since my first visit and so had the village population. Again it was a fill in and we did not stay for the main night with the paratrooper however my wife did stay with our market stall and dart game to give it a try. The following Saturday was busy for her, so much so that we have returned to that fair every year since 1986! I have only missed the main day once in all that time (due to getting a crazy once in a lifetime hire for all my equipment that paid silly money). Eventually the other tenants dropped out one by one and only the lessee and I attended the fair. I had acquired other equipment, along with my fathers and the lessees, this kept the fair going. The gate got worse every year. At one time we had to slide a vehicle around the corner on slippery boards (covered in fairy liquid) to get it around and out.
Eventually the lessee stopped attending the fair and it was only my wife and I with our equipment. She hated it as she is more social than me, I loved the quiet solitude of the place and got plenty of work done during the week days. During this time I got friendly with an elderly couple who lived in the house directly behind the fair area. We got friendly after I saved their house from burning down in the early nineties. The old lady was at home by herself when the tumble dryer went on fire in her living room. She came out calling for help and I was within earshot. I quickly ran in, unplugged the dryer and carried it out the house (with flames & smoke belching from it). From then on we got along like a house on fire (pardon the pun). More years later and the fair was passed on to me. I kept returning every year, but the gate was really bad now and the rides had got bigger. ( it took nearly half an hour to get each ride out. We had to reverse around the corner,then up the hill, across a road,up into a side road to turn onto the main carriageway. It was such a spectacle that many a time we had spectators standing watching.) It came to crunch time (2002), we could not do it any more so I asked for a move of site and the gala committee were helpful and I got a piece of tober across the river with easy access. It was heaven and made the place enjoyable again.We even got some more tenants to attend the fair. I made the short trip back to the old site to visit the elderly couple a few times during our stay every year. I have known them for over fifteen years. The last few years I have always left there wondering if I would see them the next year. This year after visiting them, I left feeling down. Sadly my fears were realised when the old gentleman passed away last week. I returned to the village for his funeral on Thursday. It was a wicked day to say the least. When I visit this village it has always been in the summer,I never thought I would see it under an inch of snow! It will not be the same this year. He grew great rhubarb in his garden. His son said he will keep the plant going in memorial. What a loss his wife must be feeling, they were coming up for 50 years married.