According to the free on line dictionary a quagmire is as follows:
1. Land with a soft muddy surface.
2. A difficult or precarious situation; a predicament.
That would sum up today nicely. We were at Cartmel races, and before we got there it had poured for hours and hours. When we arrived there was a short break in the deluge. In fact, some folk had optimistically put up wind breaks and picnics near their cars. My instincts ( born of living in the lakes for over sixteen years) told me that there ( as the song so beautifully puts it) maybe trouble ahead. We quickly grabbed a coffee and legged it over to the members tent and managed to get the last table in there. Shortly after we had set up camp ( three adults and two teenagers) the heavens opened. Stair-rods. Like a power shower. Those stuck outside got completely soaked. Folk were running for cover where- ever they could. We could only watch in horror from our warm and dry spot through the plastic windows in the tent. The wind howled, and umbrellas blew inside out.
When I eventually ventured out ( to pick up some winnings which were as rare for me today as hen's teeth) I was greeted by a sea of mud. From the tent to the toilets it was a veritable bog. Luckily I had worn flat lace shoes. Not glam but very country. I felt very sorry for the ladies who had dressed for the day in floaty dresses and sky high heels. They looked very much worse for wear ( don't they ever look at the forecast??). One lady in white sandals had thick mud up to her ankles: not a good look.....
Still- a good day was had by all ( except financially in my case). We enjoyed it even with the weather being dreadful. The horses raced bravely on, and the fair kept spinning. It's a great day out- May and August bank hols every year.