One day, Phil asked me to go to live with him in his caravan. Well, this was a massive culture shock for me. I’d left my dream home, a sixteenth century beamed cottage, a place I loved, and now there was this metal box in front of me, sat in an enormous puddle of mud. So not only did Phil work in mud, he lived in it too! Oh dear. But I was so happy I leapt at the chance of a new home and a man who understood me and wanted me to succeed.
Now, anyone who knows me knows I’m no domestic goddess, but this caravan was so dirty even I had to clean it, and it took all day. I tried to clean Phils cooker, but it was encrusted with something horrible. When I told him I’d tried and failed to clean it, do you know what he said? He said ‘Oh that’s ok, it was like that when I found it’
‘Found it?’ I asked, through clenched teeth.
‘Yeh, he said, it was in the barn and the chickens were living in it’
And thus started my crazy life with a chicken loving chain smoking hippy Druid. Before long however, I realised one important thing…..