It wasn't all easy you know, getting them coows into the corral. Lots of arm waving, dancing, entertaining them holiday kids sat on the wall ["get off and milk it mate !"], coows going in, out, through and pooing. Mr Crofter cursing, running, smiling and complaining. I've heard it all before mind. A few times and all that.
Partly in. Mrs2b patiently waiting her orders from The Great Man.
The wondering what to do after an exodus on animules from the corral, bucket of tempting food in hand, dancing stick ready.
Some in, some out, Mr Crofter 'throwing a shape' as another coow or three look on from down the croft. "The vet'll be here in half an hour, then they'll be trouble" Mr Crofter warned.
The coows came in and the vet came a couple of hours later!
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.