A four line poem about: control.
It rained on the drive to Penticton this morning, during our stall setup, and for the first hour and a bit of the market. Which kept the customers away for a good portion of the time we were there. Which cost us a good chunk of money (but we still ended up doing okay).
So I was struggling with accepting that the weather is not under my control, no matter how much I might wish it to be otherwise.
They tell me that I'm in control
When I'm behind the wheel,
But with all these crazy driversThat's not how I feel