Dad Crofter has been very busy of late. The Crofter seems to have other things on his mind for some reason so I get to snap up Dad Crofter more. That's nice because he is very photogenic, doesn't pose too much and has been known to smile. This wasn't one of these days but I like the snap all the same.
I spent an hour in the cold wind today - sans suitable head gear - snapping up The Great Man as he tried to persuade Tinga et al to get into their coow charabanc for a little ride from the mud to grass. Only, they didn't want to get in. I froze as The Crofter fell in the mud and other smelly stuff, Dad Crofter giggled and Gemma looked worried as The Boy Shaun turned away in disgust. Only thing was, the film in my Soviet camera refused to wind on so all The Great Man's theatricals were in vain! oops!
In the meantime I present to you Dad Crofter playing his "hay on a wheelbarra" version of Jenga . Of course it fell off, but not before Dad Crofter had trundled the whole affair into the garden! Nothing like mixing fun with work eh?
Ms Crofter enquires as to whether Mr Crofter, him of the committees and what have you - a most important and now happy chappie - would like his turnip chopper painted pink since there seems to be some paint left over.
Not sure what the answer was but there is always the PoR Gemma. The PoR!
Anyway, the turnips and potatoes await their fate if and only if The Crofter and Dad Crofter manage to refit the cutting teeth. Teeth? Again?
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.