I quietly do my own thing while occasionally saying "uh huh, really, goodness me" and other words of few syllables. I have never been to a crop but I suspect that this is very similar.
My only complaint is that I am the one that swabs down the table after she has gone home. I meant to photograph her page today but she was gone before I remembered and she gives them all to Mummy for her scrap album. You will just have to make do with some of mine
The "girls" are me and my five fellow students who were Rural Domestic Economy Students at the Monmouthshire Institute of Agriculture, way back in the dark ages (the 1960s) We meet very rarely but one of our number emigrated to New Zealand several years ago and was back home for a holiday. It was great to be the youngest in a gathering instead of the oldest. We talked and talked for hours. My daughter, who took me to the meet up, was agreeably surprised that we were not a bunch of old farmers talking about fields and the weather. Every one of the girls except me married someone in farming - four of them married fellow students - and as there were several other students from other courses in our year at the "reunion" it was good to see that some people never change. The people I was friendly with at college are still just the same, older, plumper, with more wrinkles but still the twinkle in the eyes and the ability to laugh out loud.