HAY … HAY … WHAT A GLORIOUS DAY!
Sorry about the dreadful rhyme, but the weather is absolutely wonderful here and you’ll never guess …
I’ve been allowed to drive the tractor! Nearest and Dearest is tangled up in conveyors, crushers and screens and things, (metaphorically, I hasten to add, they’re all on a computer screen) which means he hasn’t time to turn the hay.
I’ve spent the last hour whizzing around the field flinging semi-dried grass in all directions and trying to avoid impaling the dogs on the flails!
Almost heaven, except for those wretched hayseeds!

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You need some goggles, he said.
It's handy being the eldest of 4 siblings as they think you know everything, until, never having ridden a motorbike before, I screamed: 'How do you stop it! He screamed instructions at me and not being able to hear what he was saying over the cacophony of noise somehow, don't ask me how, I managed to escape the inevitable by deciphering something of what my brother was shouting with an intuitive sense of survival. It worked and me and my 27-year-old first born is still alive and kicking.
Now where is that tractor, or bike, I'm not fussy!
