48

Querty; I mentioned him the other day having got into trouble. The trouble he got into was a fine battle out on the moor field after we had taken half the flock to join the other thirty thus putting two rams in the same field with the ewes and lambs.

Apparently, these big boys are ok together if, or shall I more accurately say, sometimes OK if the ewes are not in season, pregnant or the boys just too knackered after 'covering' the ewes. Now, while most of the ewes are pregnant and the lambs not in season yet, Querty and Big Boy seemed to sense there was something worth fighting for. Firstly Querty dug his big curly horns into BigBoys rump and then they squared up. A few paces back and a charge, heads crashing together with such a thump. Nothing sorted so they backed off more and charged. Then again the same getting further apart to run up with more force - eventually to about 50meters apart when charged full pelt at each other with Crofter, Mum & Dad and I holding our breath till they crashed together like dwarf stags, Big Boy falling down into a ditch with Querty thumping him and keeping him down. It was all a bit dramatic and frightening for me and we were wondering whether we would be taking an injured ram back across the moor to the croft that evening. The Crofter hopped over the fence and set off to see in BigBoy was ok. But before he got there BigBoy was up albeit a tad shakily and trying to keep out of Querty's way. Of course The Crofter gave them both a stern talking to before we left them to it.

I might add they were both fine in the morning with no physical damage discernible although BigBoy's pride was most obviously dented.

47

Sadly Young sore-lips passed away peacefully yesterday. The cold and his ailments finally got the better of him and we are all sad.

Sore-lips 2009-2010.

45

Mum and Dad Crofter prepare for the moor.

Mum Crofter feeding the sheeps with North Tolsta in the background.

I'll have you know it was not just Mr Crofter and my goodself who battled out over t'moor to feed sheeps but Mum & Dad Crofter too. In fact, while Mr Crofter drove skillfully over the frozen wastes of the peat-track with me hanging on to my cameras beside him, Mum & Dad walked up over the moor. That's how keen they are!

Dad guided Mr Crofter over the dodgy bits of the moor and then humped the bales in and out of the Land-Rover. I'm not sure how Mr Crofter would cope without them!

44

'Jensen' Crofter walking the track prior to driving it.

Young Sore-lips recuperating

Jensen Crofter on his way over the peat-tracks.

Querky is out of solitary but into trouble straight away.

It's been an eventive day one way and another. The morning started well in bright sunshine and a balmy 3C that made the place light up like a late Christmas tree. I eventually caught up with Mr Crofter after I had returned from a slippery drive into town for work purposes and find him cooing over this little four-legged fella who Mr Crofter had to carry back from an adjacent croft.

Life is not always easy when you are sheeps. Since the ground is frozen from weeks of hard frost and snow, the ungulate in question must have made his lips sore trying to prise some rough grass from the solid earth. Then it all became too painful so he stopped eating and sat down. And became weak. Mr Crofter, yes, the very same one who is still on the grazing committee, came along to give the half-flock some feed. "Ah ha", said Mr Crofter, for he had noticed the sheeps lying on the ground. He scooped him up and brought the grateful fella back to the croft lawn where he was treated to some extra-special food and a touch of lip-salve [or something]to get him back to health. Sheeps was soooo very grateful. We left him snuggling up in the chicken coop sheltering from another dose of snow.

The it was up onto the edge of the headland by some peat-cuttings to the other half of the flock. Mr Crofter was in ecstasy as he drove his Land-Rover up those icy tracks, rocking this way and that, smiling broadly with a load of sweet silage aboard. And weren't those little sheeps on the hill pleased to see him? Yes they were. Only some of them had not seen silage before and were not sure whether to lie on or eat it. They got the idea in the end though. Then the hail came. Again.

43

"Oie. Crofter man. I'm in here on my own and everything. Can't I have that lovely little Ewe in here too?"
"Ah, that's what it looks like outside".

42

Duck, in snow soup

Good news! Paul the Crofter is alive and has not been consumed by his ravenous animals.

I say this because I was beginning to get a bit worried having been down for the last couple of mornings and found nothing stirring. I mean the chickens were out poking around. The piggies were doing what piggies do. And Hyacinth was already complaining that her breakfast had not arrived. But no crofter to seen. Or heard.

Now the mystery is solved. Mr Crofter had been in bed till late [relatively late that is] recovering still from the effects of flu and Dad crofter had been coming over later in the day on account of the cold weather. The snow, ice and bitter wind type of weather. I can't blame them at all.

41

The turkeys have landed.

Now the roof of their little house has been replaced and its drier in than out, the turkeys and some of the chickens have decided to go back inside at night. Meantime, flurries of snow have been coming down from time to time which the turkeys are not at all keen on. At least these two are still around!