Not a WAG

Things I know:

• I'm woefully unqualified to be a Farmer's WAG*
• That's ok

As I may have mentioned once or twice, I don't come from a farming background. I'm most definitely a townie and one without many lifeskills if I'm honest. 

I was quite nervous about meeting other WAGs when I first started seeing Ivie. I had visions of them all running around doing the farm accounts with one hand, feeding a pet lamb with the other, while waiting for yet another perfect Victoria sponge to come out of the oven. To be fair, I still think most of them could do this but luckily they don't seem to mind that I can't.

Not really a Victoria sponge

My first experience of WAGs was quite full-on. We were off to a Burns Supper where I knew exactly one other person in the room (Ivie) and he knew everyone (of course). I was hideously anxious. It was the first time I'd met Ivie's brother and sister-in-law (in the car on the way there so not exactly relaxed) and I was asking myself all sorts of stupid questions (in my head otherwise that would have been weird). 

• what if everyone thinks my dress looks stupid?
• what if they think I'm not good enough for him?
• what if they think he should be with someone who went to Young Farmers?

Not really a pet lamb

Obviously, the answer to all of these questions is the same: there was too much booze for anyone to care.

For the non-farmers, let me say something about Young Farmers. Before I was with Ivie, I thought it was just where young folk went to ensnare meet their significant other and learn quite fixed gender-based skills: baking and sewing for the girls; drinking and fighting for the boys. Now I know that's not really the case. The young men and women involved in YF around here are involved in all sorts of things, including public speaking, stock judging and raising the positive profile of farming. Here endeth the lesson.

I headed for the bar and was immediately flanked by two women. Let's call them Nic and Barbara for argument's sake. The conversation went something like this:

Nic (in one breath): "You must be Rebecca. We're Nic and Barbara. What are you drinking? Red wine? Let's get a bottle."

The women reading this will nod in agreement when I say that women can be absolutely magnificent to other women and it's bloody marvellous. 

Suffice to say, my anxiety faded. I drank and I laughed and I laughed and I drank. And that's pretty much been my experience of WAGs ever since. 

* WAG = A Wife or Girlfriend, usually of a sports player with a high profile and glamorous lifestyle

Not really a WAG