When I snook down to the Big Shed yesterday in the sunshine, The Crofter et all were just sorting the place out after the recent lambing. Little sheeps all over the croft, in the small barn, in the house and still, three mummy to be sheeps in The Big Shed. There's over thirty of the little Hebridean- guinea-pig crosses this year. How's that for nooky eh?
Meanwhile Doonray/Doograe/little coow was running all over the shoppe like an oversize strange sounding lambette. Not surprising really since twas his first day in the big world. Not sure what he thinks about the world today as the rain hoofs down.
At least Mum was calm although I don't think that's the same Mum who tries to take my arm off. At least I hope not.
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.