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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.