D A

D A and friends.

No, no I am not posting on the wrong blog. This is not The Crofter over there but D A over here.

I was passing a croft up t'road the other day on the way to somewhere important. Probably quite important anyway. Even though I can't remember where I was going. It must have been important. Anyway, I see this blimin great Chelsea tractor-ish vehicle lurking with a trailer attached. I stopped and said hello or something, passed the time of day, asked what was 'fresh' and made myself a general nuisance. That way when I suggested photographising D A and Gary they were happy to oblige - just to shut me up - probably. Their sheeps were lurking in Glen Tolsta just over there outside of the village here and they wanted them back on the croft so they can oversee the lambing and what have you. 

So of we went with me following behind, nicely be-booted up and all. We walked down into the glen towards the old derelict house, the ground underfoot somewhat wet and slippy. D A had told me once he shook his bucket of sheeps nuts [the island 'sheepdog'] they'd soon happen along. They didn't. They didn't want to come when D A shouted 'come' [ in Gaelic obviously ]. But when Gary walked around the back of them they came - well, most of them. I watched and snapped.

The sheeps are now ensconced just over the road from our wee house now.