Before now, I have only dabbled in wellie awareness, but honestly, I could have taken them or left them.  Historically, I would make stabs at providing the odd pair of wellies for the kids, but rarely did I have a pair for all the children at the same time… and rarely would the pairs actually be pairs… The rubber boots we did have were either too big, too small or sparkly pink (when they needed be worn by Daniel).  The forlorn wellies would sit at the back door collecting rain water, grit and the odd crisp autumn leaf, hugely ignored by the whole family.

I’ve come to learn over the last few months that our sloppy approach to the ‘wellie culture’ was surely due to our city slickin’ lifestyle.  We would get up, get dressed, throw on our fancy, fashionable leather boots, button up our jackets and head out the door to brave the elements… all the way to the car.  The only time our sad little collection of wellies ever got noticed was if it snowed, then we would have scenes reminicent of the ugly step sisters fighting over the scabby boots.  Children, with feet almost folded in half to fit into that wellie, would rejoice “THEY FIT ME!!  THEY FIT ME!!” While the unlucky sibling would sulk and pout, and return from igloo building early as their feet were soaked and numb… But the intense interest in the inadequate wellie pile would last only as long as the slush on the ground and then we would return to our street shoes.

Now at the farm, we know our stuff when it comes to wellies.  We all have a pair.  Daniel’s are bright red (we wouldn’t want to lose him, now would we?) Rosie’s have roses on them, of course.  Hannah’s are a lovely pink patterned with flowers and go all the way up to her knees (and more often than not the water from the stream still passes over the top, filling them with water and still soaking her feet.  Heidi’s are a very fashionable pastel tartan and and although they only reach to mid-shin area, you can be assured they are bone dry on the inside.  Len has opted for the more austere look… a simple hunting-green (but I can assure you, his were the most expensive!) And me?  Yes even I have learned to appreciate a sturdy pair of wellies.  Mine had to be comfortable and pretty - I went for a pink and brown, hounds-tooth checked pair of Muck Boots… and yes, they deserve their name now. 

On any given day now in Bamberboo Land, you can see our feet snuggle bundled into our wellies.  Whether we are mucking out the chickens (or just chasing them around the pen)… playing in the stream… building a fort… talking to the sheep or cows… going for a walk… or pretending you don’t hear your mother when she calls you in for chores… our feet will be wellied.  We are stlll working on leaving them at the door when we come inside… but we do know now that we should turn them upside down and lean them against the wall so they are dry for our next adventure!

I guess Billy Connolly best explains why we should always wear our wellies… a tune you will often hear us singing:

If it wasn’t for your wellies where would you be
You’d be in the hospital or infirmary
‘Cause you would have a dose of the flu or even pleurisy
If you didn’t have your feet in your wellies

Oh wellies they are wonderful, oh wellies they are swell
‘Cause they keep out the water and they keep in the smell
And when you’re sitting in a room you can always tell
When some bugger takes off his wellies

If it wasn’t for your wellies where would you be
You’d be in the hospital or infirmary
‘Cause you would have a dose of the flu or even pleurisy
If you didn’t have your feet in your wellies

Oh and when you’re out walking in the country with a bird
And you’re strolling over fields just like a farmer’s herd
And somebody shouts, “Keep off the grass” and you think how absurd
and SQUELCH you find why farmers all wear wellies

If it wasn’t for your wellies where would you be
You’d be in the hospital or infirmary
‘Cause you would have a dose of the flu or even pleurisy
If you didn’t have your feet in your wellies

There’s fishermen and firemen, there’s farmers and all
Men out digging ditches and working in the snow
This country it would grind to a halt and not a thing would grow
If it wasn’t for the workers in their wellies

If it wasn’t for your wellies where would you be
You’d be in the hospital or infirmary
‘Cause you would have a dose of the flu or even pleurisy
If you didn’t have you’re feet in your wellies

Oh Edward, Heath and Wilson they haven’t made a hit
So you’d better get your feet in your wellies

If it wasn’t for your wellies where would you be
You’d be in the hospital or infirmary
‘Cause you would have a dose of the flu or even pleurisy
If you didn’t have you’re feet in your wellies