I can hardly believe it. A week has passed since my last visit on account of me being away on the mainland saving the world and other things. Coming back to the Croft I find Mr Crofter Sir, 'im of the North Tolsta Grazing Committee and all that stood rooted to the ground looking for all the world like he had been there for the week. Granted, he looked a tad tidier than last time I was there, his hat a little perkier and the 'lawn' a smidgen muddier but he was in the same place all the same.
It seems the good Mr Crofter had acquired some croftering 'bits' and was retro-fitting them to the bijou stys - no doubt much to the delight of PigPig, Maclaren et al.
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.