I walk the dogs on Fosse Meadows nature reserve every morning. It's beautiful, a hundred acres or so, half of which are fields that are intentionally left pesticide free so that the wild flowers and weeds can flourish and half woodland with both deciduous and evergreen trees, including a good smattering of 'specimens'. There is also a lake with 'hides' for those who want to watch the wildlife.
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Foss Meadows forms part of the Sharn Brook floodplain, so during the winter months the going can get quite sticky. That means you ether have to wear wellies or get wet feet and soggy trouser bottoms.
I've been wearing the same wellies for over 10 years. They are ex council steel toe cap models which were obviously only designed for leaning on a shovel in because they weigh about two stone each. I've been promising myself some new ones for years but I said I would wait until I wore these out.
It was touch and go which would survive the longest, me or the wellies, but last Monday I finally won the war of attrition when the lining inside the right boot came adrift from the rubber.
In your face council wellies. I beat you. I am the man.
Yeeehaaa! I was sooo pleased to be getting new wellies. Which to buy which to buy....
I set about doing my research. I had the internet at my disposal and the world was my lobster.
You wouldn't believe how vast the subject of wellies is. The choice is endless. There are reams of facts and figures, adverts galore and fifty page forum threads where arguments rage over the virtues of one brand v another.
I finally settled on these. They cost a staggering £90. (I know. I can't believe it myself).
I've worn them on my walk every morning this week and they are utterly fabulous. Cool, light, dry, comfortable.. I could, and actually do walk miles in them.
There is however one tiny drawback. The left one occasionally makes a gentle farting sound as I'm walking. It doesn't really bother me unless I glance over my shoulder and see one of the many young lady dog walkers close behind. (usually struggling to get past).
As they hurry by, they often shoot me a funny look. I can't decide if it's disgust or pity. I've tried explaining things but it only makes matters worse, so I've taken to pointing at Poppy and saying, "I think her tummy is upset".
If I say it in a stern voice and wag my finger, she backs up my story by looking guilty.
I know I'm going to Hell.
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