712

 There's no rest for the wicked - or The Crofter. In the dying light of the day The Crofter tootled up to the apportionment to feed the coows a bit of 'snap' - out in the dark damp 'field'.
I tootled along too, cadging a lift in his shiny big blue four wheel drive toy.

Aye, the coows were there all right waiting for a bit of attention. So the good Crofter lifts the bag of food, climbs over the fence, trudges wearily through the soft ground and fills the coows' trough. Nice eh?

I think they probably all lived happily ever after but we have to wait and see won't we boys and girls?

711

The sheeps hunt.

There's Gemmima waiting to see if Dad Crofter can remember how to drive the quad. He used to have a Triumph Trophy [ the American model] so he should ok.

The sun was shining  - just before the hail came in.

Ah yes, it all comes back to Dad Crofter even though he couldn't find his leathers like what he used to have.

710

They are behind you!

No, didn't go and get them. We, The Crofter and I, were on the local closest beach, walking the mutts. They, Rob [mutt 1], Gemma and David, have been out on the hill behind today looking for the rest of the sheeps. Actually, that's not them. It could have been- same number of legs each, same coulour sort of thing. But it wasn't.

I have no idea as to whether they found the sheeps escapees as it's been hailing outside and I'm not about to go down the road to find out.

709

The barrow was awaiting.
It is not painted pink. Yet.

708

There he is. That's The Great Man feeding up the two legged ones. The four legged ones got their scoff soon after while Gemima was going into town to do tooth deliveries. A busy afternoon.

707

These here birdies seemed at odds today. I think it was being fed by The Crofter instead of the lovely Gemima. Or maybe it was last nights high winds that ruffled them.