Arbeiđararnir sveitta [eh?]
It was day like most others. A sunny day although blowing a sharp cutting cold wind from the north. The hay rolls had arrived the night before and the coows were keen to get and eat it. The quad was started with a cough and a splutter, the trailer loaded with a roll and off down the neighbouring croft they went. Mr Crofter's croft is a tad wet down that end - and up toher end too as it happens so that's why they went that way. I followed behind. Walking.
First lamb of 2012
And there was Nigel [or it might be Nigella - I forgot to ask and it's not easy to tell these days] the lambette. Ah, lovely.
The roll had to be shoved through a hole in t'fence o'er the ravine that is the drainage channel. Mr Crofter and Dad Crofter got very warm as they huffed and puffed in the sunshine to get the roll under the wire. [I took snaps - but did help in the end - how kind is that?] . The roll was then moved ceremoniously o'er to the toher side, the dryer side where the bull proceeded to trash the thing - having great fun and thoroughly frightening me and the Crofters with his antics.
Mr Crofter wonders if he should have brought a red cloak with him.
Mr Crofter does his best James Ravilious pose for me
Mr Crofter dances out of the way as the bull continues trashing.
To be completely honest, Mr Crofter wasn't at all happy. "You" he said sternly to the bull. "Yes it's you I'm talking about". The bull, it must be said, had been very naughty indeed. The hay was now spread all over that part of the field and Mr Crofter and his Dad then had to rebuild the roll so it all won't blow away. Now, isn't that a naughty bull?
Yes it is!
The rebuilding of the hay-roll
Boys looking on
Right boys, there must be something to eat here.