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Weather Hens

The Crofter always has to aware of the weather and there is lots of weather up here to be aware of. There is always the radio or tv weather forecast but they never seem to get it right for the island which has it's own local weather. Or there's the seaweed hanging at the door to look at but The Crofter doesn't believe in such hocus-pocus. Oh, no, The Crofter has his Weather Hens.

If you study the above photo carefully you can see that the hens are both out of their home. That means it's going to rain. If one is out and the other is in, it means sleet is on its way. Two in means its raining or snowing or, if the door of their house is nailed shut there's a big blow on the way in. If neither hens are to be seen, they have either been blown away or else they are in the pot!

A full-proof system

188

The Crofter, and Dorothy

I've been busy and all that. Reiki, work and photographising. No time at all to go and see t'Crofter and his post-rationalist croft down t'road. I had a bad dream last night as well!

But I have this snap in the camera and it showed itself when I developed the thing today. See, The Crofter does get out. Here we can see our hero with his winter hat on terrorising the post office staff. Or something.

187

The Crofter sorting out his silage

The Crofter is doing fine thank you all. I went and paid another visit today - after our little bicycle ride along the coast. We found The Crofter washing something 'orrible off his boots while regaling us of tails of new house house building in the village. We listened attentively.

The coows are penned up awaiting the coming of the calves - hopefully. The pigs are making a mess of the place - as if they could make it much worse! And the sheeps, in the main, are back up on the neighbours croft ready for lambing in the near future. I said 'in the main' since there are a few missing this winter. A couple took the quick way down the beach, falling off the cliff to their demise but there are some others who are hiding somewhere in the vicinity. at least The Crofter hopes so. They are black if anyone sees them!

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Here he is, Sparticus McTaggart Junior, with new friend lurking in the background over Carloway way. "Check out my new quarters! Very nice barn, grass and everything" Yes, yes we can see that. Glad you are happy and everything.

185

Le Croft

The Croft is looking more like a quad track these days what with the mud and the piles of old tyres around the place. The old flower containers disintegrated so Dad Crofter got some worn-out tyres from town and fashioned them into...... uh..... piles ! If the flowers arrive it might probably look a bit nice :-)

Whilst Mr Crofter was urging whatever football team on to further.... further...... whatever football teams do [and that's not much in my experience] my dear partner and I took a little excursion over to Carloway to check out young Sparticus' new abode. and there he was ready to greet me at the fence next to the Blue Pig studio run by Jane Harlington who is getting all Rev'd up for the year ahead.. [and where I bought some really lovely Jane H made batik cards] Now graciously named Sparticus McTaggart, I'm reliably told the bull-ette is a fine and kind fellow who gets on well with his new companions. Probably just as well otherwise he'll be seeing the inside of a freezer a bit soon.

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Things, planted in the plastic house thing.

Some action between land-rovers

I took my life in my hands today and went for a micro drive with The Crofter in one of his Land-Rovers. No, not Lucy but the one with the wind-wrinkled bonnet [as a result of a storm that ripped it off and took it down the bottom end of Mr Four-Tractor's croft and wrapped it around a post].

It's a bit of a convoluted tale but basically the community shop manager is on his hols so that particular fort is being ably held by Dorothy but Mr Crofter and others are helping out with the driving bits. The coal needed to be delivered to a few village folk. I went along with The Crofter to help - a bit. Holding the door - that sort of thing.

I clambered in after we had rubbed a cut potato on the windscreen as the wipers were being a bit temperamental - in that they had disappeared altogether - and it was pi.... raining hard. It did little good at all but it made me feel good suggesting it since I'd read it somewhere - or perhaps my father told me about it. who knows? We shot off at a stately 10 mph with water pouring down my left leg from a hole in the roof. apparently, the seals had not been fitted yet. 'Seals'? How about a roof instead of a colander? Anyway, my choice of waterproof trews that morning was inspired. The coal picked up we found the house in question, passed the time of day as I held the gate and Mr Crofter humped the coal. A fair distribution of work I'd say.

But it has not all been fun and games for Mr Crofter as he had been concreting the detached pig-house floor and planting the seeds and things in the polytunnel - the one that is now devoid of ducks and has a covering that is. and he's been drinking buckets of 'builders tea'. Apparently.

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The Crofter had a birthday yesterday. Not allowed to say how old he is but he's not as old as me and older than his cows. Combined. There, I've said it.

In celebration, Mr Crofter chaired the shop committee meeting then came back and drank the last of our Talsiker!

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Mum Crofter.

It was Sparticus who has gone to pastures new. No, not the freezer but over Carloway on the west side of the island. Hopefully, Tinga his mum will be more calm now!

Meanwhile, Mr Crofter spent the evening at Cragro House eating our food and drinking our lemonade. Twas lovely. Mr Crofter is a year older on Monday and the planned festivities are building up beginning with the Community Shop meeting he's chairing ! Bet he can't wait.

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Mum Crofter, Supervising

Pig bits

Of course Pig is now in bits. Both of them actually. Hung for a week or so in a neighbour's barn then butchered. Here, The Crofter is just doing something horrid to pigs' bottom. Or something. I wasn't too close and used a long lens shooting from the next village or just about anyway. All over now.

Next.

180

A Cow

The new [to The Crofter] poly-tunnel.

"So why don't you get a shovel and help move the sh..... the cow poo out of the byre?" "Well" I replied, "if I'd wanted to shovel the smelly stuff I would have got some animals".

So started the conversation with The Crofter and his family this morning as they we sunning themselves on the bench in the unseasonal weather. I'd been out cycling for 25 miles in the morning which seemed a much better use of my time. I'm not sure The Crofter agreed since he has the new Poly-tunnel to finish erecting, the cow stuff to removed from the byre before the cow-lettes arrive - if they do that is.

The piglets are now three, two having gone to meet their butcher - which is why the slight lapse in the blog. I might be keen to photograph but I not keen to photograph a demise.