The pictures are square and they should have been oblong! I know that. Only I went down with a bigger camera just to make them feel important. Only, I'm not even sure they noticed despite the fact that I waved the Hasselblad right in front of their noses. Oh well, someone might appreciate it.
Just to ensure they didn't get the idea that they are important of something, I snapped them up shovelling s..... smelly stuff from the chicken appartments - and later the pig hutches. And I used some cheap Chinese GP3 film just to keep their Chinese made tractor happy. The ducks couldn't have cared less whatever I was waving in their direction.
Look, I caught The Crofter smiling. At least I think it was a smile. It could have been trapped wind I suppose but I'd have thought by now he would have been over that phase. I shall have to ask Mum Crofter.
The chickens looked unconcerned all the same. Obviously the smile didn't last long otherwise all hell might have let loose in the barn as the beasties realised 'something was up'.
But it wasn't up. I think. Dad Crofter was crouching in a fairly normal way. Well, normal for Yorkshiremen anyway. Turk was strutting his stuff so probably I was barking up the wrong tree. Or maybe just barking.
I know this is Donald Four Tractors [now as it happens with a lot more than four tractors but unwilling to tell me how many]. Moseying my way down to The Croft I was passed by this very up-market machine, the likes of which is rarely seen about the place. It had a cab and everything. Not to mention a surprising lack of rust - and smoke. It was Mr Four Tractors showing off his latest love.
Oh how impressed I was. Smiled and all that. I think that might have been a smile back too - but I couldn't really tell. Donald was off down to see The Crofter to turn some earth with the aid of lumps of metal that seemed to be hanging off the back.
I followed Mr 4T in passing the lovely Number 1 with her splinted leg. apparently, it might be do with a lack of nutrients in the grass when mum as in foal or something like that. It should get better anyway Mr 4T tells me.
Oh look there's the posse that are causing havoc around the place. My fav is one of the little black ones - the Hebridean-Guinea-pig cross [ :-) ]. Well, soon Mr 4T and The Crofter were talking 'business' - potatoes and all that. So I left.
Not content with seemingly cross-breeding his Hebridean sheeps with guinea-pigs to produce wee-tiny black sheeplettes suitable for all mantle-pieces, The Crofter Sir has been trading with Toy Town to get more 'stuff'. Mr Crofter likes 'stuff' especially when the stuff in question bolts on the back of the tractor and wobbles about a bit. Doesn't seem to do much else mind you bar a slight movement of air out the pipe that was fixed to the toy-town pump that was, eventually affixed to the drive shaft at the back end of the tractor - once the old drive bit had been coaxed off, and that after a search for the right thing to hit it with.
Coaxing the tractor into life
Oh yes,and the tractor had to be coaxed into life before the 'stuff' could be attached and that required a puff of smelly in a can and a few changes of battery. Not forgetting a wipe down of the wet seat Mr Crofter Sir wouldn't sit on but, Dad Crofter had to after using the handy straw nearby.
Coaxing off the usual thing
Toy-town pump thing wobbling for all its worth.
While that was going on I, yes me, without so much as a todo but with lots of shuffling here and there managed to get the escaped pigling back into its hutch with mummy and siblings.
The sheeplettes were being kept in place by Mum Crofter who has a special favourite in Number 1. Number 1 is a bit wobbly on her pins so needs so special TLC.
"Come on boys and girls"
Then it was time to tickle Lucy into life. Lucy being the recalcitrant land-rover of a certain vintage. Apparently the thing that makes it go brmm brmm clunck is not working well. In fact it's not there at all after The Crofter took it off to look at it. It didn't stop him trying though. Well, perhaps the pimp-mobile will start today.
Little sheeps are still living in the lap of luxury in the back kitchen, enjoying the warmth and the company. But they where encouraged outside today to enjoy the fresh air and sun - in between showers that is.
At least that way Sue, Mum Crofter gets to clear up their mess and make the place a little more presentable - till I tramped through in my muddy boots that is.
Mr Crofter had better things on his mind - the new copy of Chicken Weakly or something like that. That helped his cornflakes go down well.
Did I tell you it was damp? As you can see from this parade of fashionable crofter types, it was. Note the slightly ill-fitting jacket, the thick gloves and the hats. You can tell summer is on its way.
Mr Crofter was so very attentive to his flock, checking that the little ones have been looked after nicely by their mothers - even if that meant penning them in together so they get the idea - and then sitting in the sheeps hutch to keep an eye on things. This one was a result and the little back sheeps was cuddled next to her mum and taking a snack too.
Meanwhile, back at the house, Mum Crofter was shepherding the orphans/delicate ones. Feeding them when they called, mopping the kitchen floor after them and ushering them outside when it was dryer to get a breath of fresh air. All part of a long day.
On the Isle of Lewis off the west coast of mainland Scotland lies a croft inhabited by an English off-comer. His Mum and Dad live nearby and help him run the croft. This is a photographic record of their lives as it unfolds.