Hello, my name's Cornelia Butterworth and I used to own a dairy farm.

The dairy farm has been in the Butterworth family for generations,

when my father tragically passed away, it was thought

that my brother would follow in his footsteps. However, wasn't to be, he had another calling. He's always

been a big fan of role play and medieval reenactments and we've

lost him to LARPing. I don't want to say that it is a sex thing but but I also might not, you know, necessarily say that it's not.

Sadly, I've not seen Jeremy for months now. I think the last I saw of him he was he didn't answer the door so I peered through the window and

an image that I'll never be able to get out of my head was him pressed up against the wall,

being sort of pinned down in a medieval costume, having his face snogged off by a goblin.

Because we'd all always thought that Jeremy would take over the dairy farm,

I did not know the first thing about dairy farming as it turned out.

So as a matter of urgency you know I took out an advert on gum tree,

advertised for the position.

I had an email from a chap named Alan who had studied in America.

They absolutely love Milk over there. They drink more of it than water. Alan turned up for his first day on the job and it became very apparent very quickly that Alan did not

know the first thing about dairy farming.

Alarm bells rang for me when he asked me where the saddles were to ride the cows into the milking

quarter.

I turned my back for all of three seconds and I turned back round and Alan is feeding them red grapes out of his pocket.

Now I do not know much about dairy farming but even I know you do not give a cow a grape.

There were some red flags, sure, but, you know, maybe, you know, let's allow for some first day nerves.

So I went back to my office and I let him get on with it.

...