Now that was a brutal day.

The day started with pasture picking, I hadn't done it the week before and so there was plenty of shit to shovel. I savour the turning of the manure pile, usually that means the hardest physical work of the week is done.




Not today though, I was just at the end of hanging a load of laundry when deafening braying from down the hill told me that something unusual was happening. The unusual thing was Glen, the farmer, backing up a load of hay.



Glen apologized, he had to run as the inspectors were here to look at his potatoes (apparently they can only be sold as seed if they pass inspection). He took his tractor, and his big strong arms, leaving me looking at this:



It just needed piling in here:



It was hot, 80 degrees according to the JD thermometer, overcast and very humid. Charlie had the right idea.



But I couldn't lay under the trailer as I was scared of rain. I had to hurry. I also had to worry. I'd put the equines in the neighbour's field so they wouldn't eat the hay as I unloaded it but that's the field from which Kobe escaped. Is he inside or outside the fence?



Inside. I discovered after running up the hill with halter and lead rope.

Eventually the hay was in and I set about my original task for the day, finishing the roof. I was well into that when the neighbour called to propose a session of fence repair. I climbed down and we fixed fences, "not a bad afternoon's work" the neighbour said as we finished. "Lard tunderin', what about the morning?" I thought, saying nothing.

Still, a lot got done and my thighs are even more rippling now than yesterday.