So this summer I SHALL be blissed out in a muddy field, music wafting gently over me, cider stains down the front of my inappropriate tie-die garb.

Apologies to those of you who missed out this year. Who sat on the phone for hour upon frustrating hour, credit card in hand, playing through all the bands in your head, desperate to be connected to place your order.

I don’t want to be smug.

But nya nya na-na naa.

And this year’s lineup has to be the best for years.

Jerry Donahue! Earl Okin! Legendary morris dance/rock fusion supergroup Morris On!

Jethro Tull!

And of course the mighty Fairport Convention. One of Q Magazine’s ‘50 bands to see before you die’. Although I’d be disappointed if I went first.

I take the mandolin from the wall and do a few strums in joyous celebration. Widdledee-widdledee-deee!

Yes, I love the Cropredy Folk Festival.

I feel that a weight of anxiety has been lifted from me, knowing that I’ve been one of the lucky few. I clasp my tickets greedily, wondering where I can hide them. Numbers 00081-00084.

It would be devastating if they were pocketed by some chancer posing as a meter reader, and resold for a fortune on Ebay.

I should emphasise that their website did not crash at any point. The Glastonbury IT people can learn from this, should they not be too proud.

I’ve not managed to get to Cropredy for some years, as it clashes with the Edinburgh Festival. I need to check whether they’ve got Internet access these days so I can provide an act-by-act blog.

I know you’ll want to hear all about it.