Listening to: Think (Aretha Franklin)
Weather: Marti Pellow
Birds: Hen harrier hunting rabbits
It's been raining. . . a lot. There's water standing everywhere, mud all over the place - most of it on my boots. Still, all that heavy lifting is good exercise for the calves and thighs.
I'm a little concerned that the acre I was hoping to have ploughed up for potatoes will never get done - there's no way a tractor can get onto the ground the way things are.
And the pig paddock has turned into a swamp. I'm tempted to kit the lads out with lifejackets. . . or maybe install a flume/slide for them to play on. . . or get out the windsurf board.
There are large pools all over the place and this morning there was one right by the door of their hut. That meant they couldn't help but trail mud and dirty water into their bedding which was filthy and wet by the time I went for the daily bout of barging, bumping, squealing and general silliness we like to call breakfast.
So it was I found myself with a strong north wind whipping about my ears, being nudged and jostled by two inquisitive pigs as I pulled the bedding out of the hut.
The wet straw filled in the mini-lake at the entrance to the hut and a couple of buckets of sand and chips (gravel) sorted out the wet patches inside before I put fresh straw in.
The lads seemed grateful - at least they didn't try to eat any bits of me or my clothing which made for a pleasant change.
Geese - an apology
My last post claimed I had seen barnacle geese on the bottom field. I was, not for the first time, talking out of my nether regions. They were greylag geese which look totally different. I can only apologise to geese everywhere.