No prizes for guessing where I’ve been. I worked like a nutter in the week leading up to Glastonbury (my pay-packet handily landed smack bang in the middle of the farm). And then we went to Glastonbury. And then we came back on Monday. And then I’ve been recovering. And now I feel ready to talk. Of course it was wonderful, if a little hard work on the mud/sun front. Lots of pictures to come. And talk of breaking through a fence to see Jarvis. Finding hidden treasures in the Bimble Inn. Falling flat on my face on my way in. Popping to Cuba (ok, Cubana) for cheeky mojito sugar-fixes. And eating an obscene amount of pies. You know, just the usual.
Our Glastonbury tickets have just arrived. On a Sunday! It’s a very peculiar process, but exciting nonetheless. This time in ten days we’ll be cooped up on a coach, sitting in dreaded motorway traffic somewhere or other, itching to set our feet on the farm of our dreams and get an eight-point-three-per-cent strawberry cider in our paws. We simply cannot wait. Obviously, it’s all about Kitty, Daisy and Lewis for me.