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Right, that's enough of the flim-flam, the post that does not exist and all that, reality kicked in today. I'm not going to turn this blog into a love-fest especially when 'things happen'. As they did today.

The Brave Heroic Crofter, him of the committees and all that plus his lovely dad Dad Crofter set out to feed the Shetland coows. Big tough beasts they are roaming the outback that are the croft fields down at the glen, down where the witches are that for some reason I cannot tell you about. Not that I know etc.

Mr Crofter resorts to the 'shove it' methodology

Then the 'roll-it' method.

And finally, the 'stuff that' method!

The Crofter drove the recalcitrant Chinese born tractor with trailer and hay baley thing. Mr Dad came with me savouring the heater in my car. What possessed Mr Crofter Sir, the brave heroic one to drive straight on the crofty field with all that snow and, I might add, gluety mud right near where the coow got stuck a few days ago, I'll not understand. Apart from the Crofter not wanting to carry the hay to the coows but rather tow the trailer with said hay aboard to the waiting coows. The tractor, being all oriental wasn't that keen on the mud so refused to go on, back wheels firmly ensconced into the mire and the front following soon after. Even when the hay had been off loaded, the trailer un-hitched and a great deal of huffing and puffing taken place, the tractor stayed put. It's still there awaiting a tow from the pimpmobile - once The Brave Heroic Crofter gets it's mended. Oh, and the tractor-san steering sorted as that sort of er er broke in the mud!