The alpacas have all given birth now, thank god, so I can relax. My father’s family, they’re all farmers. I used to spend a lot of time in Ireland when I was little – we’d go for the summer holidays – so I could milk a cow by the time I was seven. I was a bit of a wild child at that age. I don’t mean wild naughty, I mean wild gone off on the back of a donkey. I suppose it planted a seed somewhere in my mind. I remember saying if I ever get a bit of land, I’m going to get a cow. Which I did, until she went feral.
I was described as the last kick of a dying horse. My earliest memory is waking up Christmas Day to find Popeye peeping out of this sack. It was the same size as me. I was mad on Popeye. It was