Argh!!! This morning I was out on site with a farmer. It was hot and sunny so I was in my jeans and wellies, rather than full waterproofs, and quite enjoying the view out over the farmscape form the landy, when he stopped and said, we'll have to walk this next bit.
So out I hop, into the nice dry stubble field, which was stuffed little dinky birdies, and around we go into this little birch woodland which opens out into heather/peat bog habitat. Joy!
I have at least got wellies on. Still I was scurrying to keep up, and every so often I'd hear the farmer say 'ditch there' and he'd take a big step.
Well, just as we got to the furthest point from the van, the earth suddenly wasn't there anymore
and I was mid thigh deep in peaty moss nastiness
Fab. It was at this point the farmer turned around and promptly creased up, whilst simultaneously offering me a hand up. Needless to say that I needed the hand up, as I was well and truly stuck
I spent the rest of the visit trudging around half caked in scratty peaty muddy clothes and smelling like a dead
Hedgehog thats been in the water for a decade. By the time I got back to my car the sun had dried most of the wet stuff into a solid mass and I looked a bit like wallace in the wrong trousers.
It was at this point that I realised that a) I had to go get lunch, and b) I couldn't possibly spend the whole day smelling like a corpse. So I had to go to sainsbury's and buy new clothes (it says a lot for the lady in sainsbury's clothes bit that she let me pull the tags off and leave the clothes on when I'd made sure they fitted properly, and just scaned the labels). Thus refreshed I can continue to work, without covering the whole office in nasty flaky dried peat. But since there are nly 6 ditches across that moss the immortal cry will always remain....'Why is it me that
always finds the ditch?'
