We arrived at the venue, a parking lot laid out
To hold rows of booths in aisles we just made out.

The early birds' tents bucked in wind-battered terror;
Setting up early was surely an error

As several lay twisted, their pipes bent like straws.
"Best wait till the morning, don't risk such a loss,"

The wise ones warned, tying down their paraphernalia.
"The wind's too strong, your muscles will fail ya."

We didn't listen, we thought we could try it.
The wind swept in, lifted, tugged, started to fly it.

We dug in our heels, bungeed the booth to the bumper—
Getting the curtains on was the main stumper.

One move at a time, with ropes tied all over,
We wrestled them on ere it could fall over.

One side secured by the weight of the van,
The other held down by a ton of stuff, was our plan.

Then the rain started falling from every direction!
To safeguard our stuff, we closed section by section,

Giving the tsunami four chances to ram us;
But we hung on fiercely as it tried to slam us.

Once we'd zipped every corner, reinforced to the max,
She stood nice and steady, and we could relax.

Those TrimLine tent builders just earned a new feather:
Their super design and steel pipes beat the weather.

Still, the next time wind rages, we'll go with the warning
And wait to set up on the following morning!

Kate Jones
Coconut Point, Florida
February 12, 2010

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