It's all go at the Croft

Continuing the harvest theme this ‘grainy’ image was taken in Rackwick in the late 1950s.  It shows CMC’s mother (with hand fitted rubber boots), her uncle driving the tractor and her father on the binder.  Smoking the inevitable fag. 
A cold blowy day today.  I was taken out west by CMC for the early-bird offer at the Birsay café; for she had a toucan to spend.  It was very busy.  Before we departed however, we had to deal with some escaped sheep.  I tasted the falafel of eternity, however it’s all but a memory now.  A wifie in the café was complaining about folk wild camping.  I said to her that it never used to happen years ago as folk went camping instead.  Folk never used to go wild swimming either.  I have to admit it takes me a full half hour to get myself psyched up to get in the bath.  And, although many folk may gaze slack-jawed, folk used to be able to visit Golspie, Caithness and even Sutherland before the North Coast 500 was dreamt up.  And don’t get me started about opening online bank accounts, I have the bit between my teeth noo and I’m adamant I will open an account with every bank in Europe.  Sadly (even though this isn’t fitting in chronologically) I have to report that there was a pallet in the sea off the Brough of Birsay and I feel this fairly has to have been instigated by Thor Heyerdahl. 
Whilst CMC went to play badminton in Dounby I went in past to visit my mother.  She was slightly more coherent.  I am so glad to say I have a witness to the following.  Linda, who works in the care home admin, came in to my mother’s room and asked me if I can top up the float of my mother’s cash.  No bother.  Just as Linda turned to go my mother said (and this is verbatim) ‘Iain won’t be able to go to his cousin’s wedding, because his cousin hasn’t been circumcised yet.’  As you can imagine when I left the care home later everyone empathised with me.  I hope everyone in Blipland has a thrill-seeking weekend.