Mr Crofter seemed very happy I must say trading jokettes with The Boy Shaun in the cool breeze, sheeps listening in and covering heir eyes with dismay at the tired old jokes. TBS laughed - as he should - though deep down he was with the sheeps.
The sheeps once counted had to be moved from up here on the croft to down there, no, not 'down there' but down there above the beach on the common grazing. Out came the plastic sheeps dog - otherwise known as a bucket of feed and off they went.
Soon the sheeps were happily on the grass looking lazily at the beach and wondering if they will fall down the cliff to join their mate who went that way a few weeks back.
We do hope not!
At this point I was accosted by a cyclist looking for The Road To Nowhere. I sent him off on a wild gooses chase - of which there are plenty and skipped all the way home.