Working clothes

We often tell people when they are planning a visit to Rock HQ, bring wellingtons and don't wear clothes you want to keep clean, or keep for that matter. Our motley crew of critters with their assorted ways transferring their dirt, mucus, pooh and saliva soon renders any attempt to stay clean redundant. On top of which we have a sea of mud around the cottage and given the torrential rain over the last 12 hours, today was clearly going to be a burden on the washing machine.

So why my sister arrived on site with a friend of hers, my lil sis dressed like a Persil advert in white jeans, t shirt and flip flops seemed oblivious to the potential stain hazards lurking around the place. She insisted on a full tour (she did bring wellies, designer ones mind) and oddly while we were out the sun shone brightly giving even more of a soap advert feel to the event. Full tours start down at the far end with the Berkshires, via the Mangalitzas and piglets, taking in the rabbits and poultry, calling the boys and Misty from the mountain and ending in the bogs of the Cauldron. All the while harassed by hungry Ryelands, an annoying goat and enthusiastic Bernese Mountain Dogs.

Me, I looked like I needed to be pressure washed after this little foray. My lil sis still gleamed brightness and dazzled passing critters with her radioactive whiteness.