There he is, The Crofter amid the food parcels trucked by IRONSIDE in from the mainland for the animuls. They eat it as quick as the Crofter can buy the stuff. That's why he spends so much time making teef and earning a crust.
Perhaps I should go back to that business since I cocked up the film development on this snap!
There was a blockage in the road by the Crofter's place yesterday. As a nosey so and so, I wandered down to see what was up. It was a man who was up, on top of the motorised cargo carrier throwing sheeps food parcels off. I warned him not to hit the PoR since that might collapse into a pile of rusty dust!
Anyway, The Crofter, all smiling and what have you, swept out to survey the scene. Smiled again too - I knew something must be up. What with the newly delivered bags of coal, there was a lot to be moved.
O'er. It's her indoors, Ms Crofter arriving at a brisk walk. That's torn it. Might get told off now and everything. Yes me! Can you imagine?
Phew, Ms Crofter only came out to help the brave Crofter, rolling his,,, his,, whatever they are into the yard. Do you know, I think Ms Crofter fits in round here rather well already. And I didn't get told off either.
Oh, look how strong the young handsome Crofter is. Although he needs to start powdering his balding patch a bit to stop the camera glare!
Mr Crofter may be going through his VanGogh phase but he still has two ears I believe. Having said I have not been down to see The Happy Couple [THC} today. Thought I'd give them a moment to themselves -albeit with Mater & Pater Crofter and half an Ark full of aminals!
The Crofter enjoys another photo session as he gently contemplates the arrival of Gemma at the weekend - hopefully now fully trained in the black art of tractor restoration since I noticed another, hopefully non-vital piece fell off the PoR the other day.
Obviously the Crofter is very relaxed about the state of affairs!
There he is. Managing The Croft and the tooth factory while Mater and Papter are off island and Gemma about to arrive in a few days. The paintbrushes are all read for her - as is Widdle.
Of course The Crofter doesn't really look like this, I took this snap a few years ago. He looks much more handsome and really happy these days. My, he even smiled last night when he came up for an evening chatette.
There's a time of year when the Crofter has to be light on his toes. Leaping this way and that, waving his delicate arms about in the most adorable way as he plays to the crowd and does his best sheeps dog impression.
It's time for the fank and the sheeps need to be gathered off the croft and trailered to the fank itself.
Mr Crofter gets his doting flock into position for the Dipping Dance.
Dad Crofter tells the sheeps to look at The Crofter as he begins the dance.
Move one; the arm wave with bended knee.
Move two; approach to mother with outstreched arm - as much as he can be bothered anway.
Just imagine The Archer's theme tune. Or Better still, listen here to get you in the mood. Or not as the case may be. I rather like a dose of The Archers from time to time but others cannot stand them.
Anyway, Mr Crofter gathered his sheeps for The Dippping Fank with young Shaun to help him. The dipping fank is where the sheeps get a swim in some ghastly chemical to help their wool stay light and controllable or something. And it's a great place to catch up with the gossip or moan at the photographers that come!
I went along anyway with the Croation man from the most boring town in Croatia apparently. I might show you a few snaps soon.
Oh doesn't he look handsome? In that island sort of way. Well, if you squint a bit through one eye and everything. And the Crofter looks nice too. Bit frayed around the edges and all. Maybe it was the hassle of moving things from there to there. Getting the sheeps to come in onto The Croft.
It's the dipping fank today and the sheeps get their swim in the chemicals. Even Fluff does! Mr Crofter sir has been whizzing here and there tailed by Croation photographer Denis - here for a few days to snap up the smiling good folk of Tolsta.
There I was wandering around camera in hand when the big huge tractor - all shiny and nice - came trundling past with The Crofter behind, proudly sat in his Pimpmobile trailing a trailer.
I followed the convoy into the field as I suspected SOMETHING WAS GOING TO HAPPEN. It did, The Crofter sold a coow or three to the nice man in the shiny tractor. But first the coows earings had to be changed as they clashed with the colour of he new tractor or something. This I might add was what they were doing in the snap above. They were not training for an aerial display, or rehearsing a cowboy move at a rodeo but merely tweaking an ear or two.
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.