The height of country fashion

One of the things I most look forward to when sitting down to read Scottish Field is Fiona Armstrong's column. That, and the fact it's usually accompanied by a chocolate biccy and a large cup of tea. She always strikes a definitive note of relatability.

Her 'Best Foot Forward' piece in the July issue, in which she talks about a particularly well but impractically dressed friend who comes to visit, was especially poignant as I feel surrounded by an ever increasing number of women who continue to trump me in the fashion stakes while I opt for the comfy and sensible option. I accepted long ago that my wardrobe was no longer an outward expression of my personality and more so a demonstration of the best materials for covering various lumps and bumps.

I suppose, like Fiona, it doesn't matter so much when you live with animals in the country and splatters of mud, blood and drool almost become the recognised uniforms of us non-city dwellers.

A walk of two to three miles is just part of the daily routine for my husband and I as we take our two Irish setters, Rufus and Jackson, out for a jaunt around their domain. Each day is slightly different, as we spot something new or see the gradual change of the seasons take hold. While I'm not busy fussing over the latest high tech glorified pedometer, I can focus on the beautiful surroundings that I am lucky enough to call home.

While I might not fit in with the latest trends of the urbanites, I have my own blissful world to walk in. So what, if I look like a pile of dirty washing in the process. Francis Redgrave, Inverness