68

The 'caber' is removed from its previous growing spot.

"Oh come on Mr Crofter, you have to hold the bottom and launch it toe over tip in a a straight line"

I'm not sure Mr Crofter has quite grasped Highland Games protocol. I noticed his total mishandling of the caber the other day [emphasis on 'a' -say "ahh"- in cabar ]. I didn't even know he was in training for the Lewis Highland Games as it happens.

Anyway, Mr Crofter has his birthday early next week so I kept my council as he manhandled this caber up the croft and planted it in the ground - without any fertilizer either - but with stones. He must know what he is doing I suppose. It was moved from towards the bottom of the croft where it had been holding up a gate to where its needed to keep the coows from trashing the bottom field as well as the top one with their hoofs. The lovely leetle lambletts when they arrive will populate the bottom field with their mums.

Weather; damp.

67

It's that time of year when Mr Crofter can get a few jobs done round the croft just before the lambs start arriving and Piggy comes home. There's plenty to do as well - what with the new hen-house, relocating the pig-home, watching the footie and putting the equipment back together after the ravages of the winter.

The tipper has been moved! Took a few goes to get her fired up and moved with the tipper part full of rain water too. I did suggest moving the ducks to that area, burying the tipper so the ducks would have a better pond, but that didn't go down so well.

66

Its a family affair.

Ex-chickens

As I noted earlier, the hen-homes have been rebuilt thanks to a consolidated effort by the Crofters. Mum directing affairs, Dad doing as he is told and Mr Crofter thinking he is directing affirs. And, the job got done and all looks spick and span.

Meanwhile, in between running all over the place, drinking mugs of tea, pulling one's foot out of the mud and making teeth, two chickens have been dispatched and await Dad crofter to 'sort them out' - what ever that means. I didn't stop to find out.

65

Mr Crofter surveying the wrinkled iron

Pullus reps consult

The new homes and contented occupant

Oh deari me; at least the view is nice.

Pullus, the union of all good chickens had been gathering and discussing housing issues recently. The late Junior - the ex-bullock - had, in his yoof, been a rampaging oaf at times causing havoc among the superbly designed neo-le Corbusier chicken houses at the bottom of the croft. Fences had been leant on, roofs had been over-licked causing rain and snow to enter if the wind was in the wrong direction. There was nothing for it and a point had to be made to Mr Crofter. Laying was stopped and it wasn't too long before Mr Crofter got the point - no boiled egg for breaki just didn't seem right.

So, Mr Crofter and Dad Crofter rummaged around in the red van/shed and found a few sheets of wrinkled iron [or whatever its called], collected a few metres of wood and in no time the new chicken homes were springing up on the croft - wind proof, water-proof, cow-proof and with a fantastic view across the Minch.

Amazing what a bit of Union power can do.

64

The posts may have been a tad slow of late as I'm not quite back in the swing of things since my England trip and now looking after dogs for a day or two.

Rest assured, Mr Crofter is doing fine - as are Dad & Mum Crofter.

63

"I'm out"

"Oie! Where have you bin?"

The great escape.

This is what happens when one's attention is turned to something else. The day The Vet arrived to do the deed on the bull's nose, this sheeps - a ram actually - decided to leg it from the croft and seek out pastures new in Donald the Fish's veg patch. Seems like this ram is becoming a 'jumper' - which often means its days are numbered. Donald the fish happened to attending his veg at the time and was mighty startled at the black/brown horned apparition. " I thought it was the devil 'imself" Donald gasped, barely recovered from his fright. It wasn't. It was the ram who duly was re-captured and moved back onto the croft.

62

Pig and Piggy. Now, one of them - I'm not sure which - but one of them has had the pleasure of a boy-pig for the last few days. The other - I'm not sure which but it is The Other One - is feeling a bit miserable all on her lonesome.