Despite the coming rain, I took myself off to see The Crofter. He was putting the starting touches to some dental prosthetic work [that actually earns him dosh ] before doing something croft. Dad Crofter was strolling up t'road after moving the car, dressed in his warm winter gear. It seems there was as some grit type stuff going free so the old trailer needed emptying and refitting with its sides so that the grit stuff wouldn't be spread the length of the village. Apparently the Crofter has a spot of muddiness in the ex-lawn area where the tractor is now parked. And we wouldn't want to get the tractor tyres muddy would we? No is the answer you are looking for. So, while the Crofter and his Dad man-handled the metal coow keepy-backy bits off the trailer, I took some snaps. As you do.
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.