I don’t know what it was like where you were, but on Friday night it hammered with rain in Birmingham. It hammered with rain in a way that it seemed meteorologically impossible to sustain for more than ten minutes and it continued like that all night. We’d left 112 tonnes of rice in a factory with ‘known leak issues’. Graeme had scored some industrial oil leak absorbtion fabric sausages which we’d placed in likely looking places, but even so I didn’t sleep well on Friday night.

On Saturday I called Collin, Collin called Clive, Clive called in at the venue where Sarah, Eve and I met him. We had a family mopping up and wringing out session. My worst fears were not realised. There were no new leaks and know leaks had not leaked further than feared.

It was however a wise precaution to call in. Water had come within three inches of one particularly vast pile. We revised defensive policies, bowls under drips, fabric sausages lined up protecting the vast pile and containing know seepage. On Monday morning a series of releaved performers related their various damp rice stress dreams.

James