Yay, many thanks to Donald Four Tractors who sparked up his faded red old Massey-Ferguson [ ["'ere, I paid £50 for her 25 years ago and I haven't yet changed the oil"] - with a little help from a coin [don't ask me???] - and brought our peats in off the moor.
I was over at The Crofter this morning, passing the time of day, fending off the amorous turkey and snapping up Bertha et al when I noticed Mr 4 Tractors playing with one of the aforsaid tractors in the next door croft. I ventured closer for a little look-see; the tractor was replete with an antique grass wobbling machine [or something like that] attached to the back. Mr 4 tractors saw me and wandered over. "Hiya" I said with a really positive tone in my voice. "Helloo" he said in his lovely accented voice honed by years of Gaelic speaking every time a tourist came around his way :-) "Bout time we brought your peats in isn't it? ". I nodded encouragingly, smiled and everything and we chatted on passing on the news that one does round these parts. In time Mr 4 tractors wandered off, sparked up The Beast in a cloud of diesel smoke and trundled off down to the cliff-edge where he was to salvage another old tractor. Well, one can never have too many can one?
Later in the day, I was reading The Guardian in our smallest room - sad news about MI6 man found dead in flat in London who, it transpired when I had seen an image of him I had coached in my previous job at the Manchester Velodrome - the phone rang. It always rings when I am in that room. I called back to the caller who had not left a message. " It's me Donald" came the reply. Now, in North Tolsta this is not much help unless you recognise the voice snce half the village is called Donald. It was, however Mr 4 tractors and did I fancy getting the peats in today? I did and we met a little while later but not before I had cajoled Mr Crofter to come and give us a hand.
Along came Mr 4 tractors - put-put-put etc but lo and behold it wasn't the same tractor as he was on earlier. Oh no, the first tractor has decided not to play any more - the fan belt broke - and it was only 10 years old - the belt not the tracotr!!! The Crofter and I hopped up on the trailer, endured a spine jarring ride over the rough peats tracks to my peat banks, loaded up the bags and came home. In no time the bags were unloaded and the tea brewed [80C green tea for me], fig newtons un-wrapped and the world put to right.
Brilliant! Many thanks Mr Crofter and Mr 4 Tractors for helping me with getting the peats in. Much appreciated. And no, I have no snaps of the event so put up with this one of Mr Crofter feeding Maclaren and Doris in the Byre.
BTW; there's more on Mr Crofter over at Island Crofter blog if you don't know.