Mr Crofter Sir, him of the committees and what have you has been drooling over the tractors and what have you on his crofty thing as the Men build the big shed. Yes, the snow has gone and we have a day of sunshine - mostly - apart from the rain. The legs are up now. The legs of the shed that is.
The ducks are happy too. Mr Crofter gave them back their pondette - once the water had melted!
Them piggies were none too keen to their image purloined by your diarist or by Lurcrecia Olivia Flynn Hunter. None too keen on the white cold stuff or the noise from the man who is building the new over-large shed on the croft. None too keen at all.
BTW; before I forget there's another johnny-come-lately blog about The Croft run by The Crofter imself. Not that you can believe much of it mind - sounds too good to be true if you ask me. Colour digital imaging though - if you like that sort of thing. Look here
Obviously, if you want the unadulterated 'truth' and monochrome film-based images with an informative commentary you'll continue coming here.
The Crofters were visited by the talented Lucrecia Olivia Flynn Hunter, a Cornish photographer documenting the latest in crofter fashion. Obviously, it was David she turned to and here we can see the shoot progressing as David models his latest hat creation donned especially to celebrate the arrival of Tolsta Brian - some little calflette - the other day. David also sports a warm survival suit to keep the winter gales at bay. David like animals and helping old people. [I hope he likes helping old people as I need to move the boat in the morn!]
I go away for a week and all lets loose. Potentially anyway. Mr Crofter took the lovely Gemma, his fiancée back doon to Yarkshire - presumably to ensure she left the island. She'll be back soon enough - but not soon enough for The Crofter whose general grumpiness has returned - although I obviously wouldn't tell him that. Yes, he is back as well haven taken aeronautical transportation to return to the island and his everso pregnant coows - ably looked after by Mam and Dad Crofter in the meantime.
The coows or at least two of them have moved into the bit that Mr Crofter used to inhabit some time ago. By the time Gemma returns to put the finishing touches to the PoR, the calflettes will be in the front room watching tv with Widdle!
The Boy Shaun turned up today, wafting in at 10.30 when he said he would arrive Thursday! Oh, it was Thursday. He turned up all the same. With a hat on too.
This must have been February 14th.
The sun was shining for the first time this year so Dad Crofter only had ten layers of clothing on as he searched for fresh guinea-pig grass watched over by a gaggle of birdies on the wire
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.