Listening to: Nothin' (Robert Plant and Alison Krauss)
"Fine day," said my neighbour as I set out to the shop to pick up the milk.
The clouds were winning their battle with the sun, a sea mist was threatening to blow in and the wind was getting up.
But there was the smell of freshly cut grass on the wind. I had watched Westray's southerly neighbour Rousay duck in and out of the mist as I sipped my first coffee of the day.
Strolling around to let the hens out and feed the pigs I took a detour to the veg garden and looked to the North as what little remaining sunshine there was reflected off the sea towards Papa Westray.
Pigs were grunting happily, hens and chicks scratting around contendedly, spud plants are looking healthy, cabbages are ready for the pot, lettuces are green and crunchy, radishes the best I've grown, shallots and onions coming along fine, swede and leeks not too bad (don't mention the beetroot), Mrs Sort-of Pig Farmer is back from Kirkwall this afternoon, while the Scottish Nationalists gave "Labour" their just desserts in the Glasgow East by-election yesterday. Hell, Wolves have won one and drawn one on their pre-season tour!
A fine day indeed.