Say what you like about the invigorating properties of country life. I went on a nursery trip to a farm today and, if I didn’t know it before, then I know it now: I am far more Margot than I am Barbara.
It was a fun day, it was, it was, truly. And I love having quality time with my children, any or all of them. But please could this not involve mud, nor the need for ugly wellies, with that irritating sensation of my jeans twisting inside them? Please could there not be sweet (at first glance) little piglets rubbing their noses enthusiastically in their own poo and then coming over to snuffle through the bars of the fence?
Please could it not smell? And please, please could there be decent coffee?
Thank god I’m a city girl!