Sunday dawned and the sun was trying to show its face through the clouds. It was still and the little blighters - midges - were out with biting vengeance. I'd been away for a few days serving penance for being employed by a mainland company and having to visit their offices. A visit to The Crofter was in order. Maybe drag him out for a little stroll to the beach where, hopefully, the midges might be avoiding.
It appears that little had changed. A few things rearranged by the blow a couple of days earlier, the pigs new home more of a reality than it was when I left. I perused the scene, waved to The Crofter through his window and waited for him to appear at the door. He did. The news was not good. No piglets. As it happens, this didn't surprise me after the false calls of previous weeks. Maybe Maclaren is firing blanks! Anyway, The Crofter was rather busy - I suspect footy was due on the television soon, so after a quick chat, Eve and I tootled off to the beach on our own
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