Good Grieve

After time doing my mother’s messages etc we started to tidy inside the polytunnel. 

Later, well it is mart day, we skimmed between byres and barns and holding pens and gimmers and stots and withers and heffers, stirks, coos, kye, OTMs, prime hogs and ram lambs.

Once out on the grassy fields the Current Mrs Creel turned to me and said, ‘It’s pasture bedtime’.