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 The Crofter sits out of the rain [and tries to smile ]

 Sue looks out at the rain

David is still smiling, despite the rain

I took myself off down to The Crofter this morning - getting wet in the process. It's raining here somewhat. Has been for days. 

Mum Crofter [aka Sue] was doing things in the kitchen and gazing out of the window while Dad Crofter [aka David] waited for me to take his picture in the feed room. Meanwhile Mr Grumpy [aka The Crofter Paul] sat on his temporary throne, forced a smile and asked me to hurry up. I did.

Tis been a fine year at The Croft, and The Crofter and parents would like to wish everyone who reads this a very happy Christmas and a wonderful 2012. [and also mention they have a spare turkey oven ready if anyone wants a really fresh one ! ]

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You don't have to go to Spain to see people dancing with bulls. Up here in North Tolsta on a particularly wet and windy day, The Crofter decided it was time to move the four coows from over there [pointing just behind my head] to down there. 'There' in this case being his croft. The coows were not too keen on the move - especially the bit then they had to walk down t'road. The bus coming past didn't help, neither did the dustbin lorry. Mr Crofter Sir was getting a tad anxious as were the coows who retreated to the lower field.

It was a little later I heard the familiar rattle of The Crofter's tractor coming up the road. I put on my waterproofs and shot down the field to record the action. It seems the idea was to load the recalcitrant beasts into the big trailer and tow them home. First a holding pen had to constructed using hurdles and rope. The beasts lured in with a morsel of food and then trapped there before the layout of the pen changed to enable The Crofter to get the coows into the trailer. Two went in without too much hassle but Hyacinth had other ideas. She really was naughty, repeatedly flicking her horns at him in a  most un-lady-like manner and then charging The Crofter who fended her off with a hurdle and an over-confident 'Ole! or two. All the time Esme ran hither and thither creating more havoc. Eventually Esme had got rather pufffed out and retreated the relative warmth of the trailer while The Crofter, The Crofter's pater and I wrestled with Hyacinth, taking care not to lose and arm or an eye. We won in the end and the coows are now ensconced on the croft down t'road.

These are the snaps from this day.

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 View from the Croft

 The Crofter comes back from feeding the coows

 .. then stops to shut the gate [as I'm taking a snap ! ]

All Orthodox for the winter.

I hardly recognised the chap. All booted and suited and looking like a lost Greek Orthodox priest on a quad out to see his flock - or something. It was cold. And it was snowing at the time. The coows needed some nosh as the snow covered their usual fare. So a roll of silage was quickly put into the trailer, attached the quad and taken to the other croft field. 

The Crofter had apparently adopted his winter plumage - which, as it happens I think really suits him. The snow has gone now replaced by wind and rain, and more rain. The croft fields are wet. Very wet. The Crofter spent one wet afternoon extracting his beloved Yangtze Maosetungson tractor from a deep wet hole in the field after the surface gave way tipping the thing at 45 degrees and almost swallowing it whole. A great deal of sweat and tears and not a few 'botherations' passed before Donald Four Tractors came to the rescue with one of many machines and towed The Crofter to hard ground. Such is the life of the North Tolsta Crofter.

With Christmas coming, plans were afoot to erect a huge inflatable Father Christmas on the roof. Only, Lewis Crofters didn't have one!

Please note; Island Crofter are nothing to do with this here blog - even though they purloined our title. No doubt they are a fine company all the same