Saturday brought a hard frost, with clear skies, the sun hanging low in the sky. The happy farmer finally got his ridging finished on the roof of the extension, finally the roof is on, slates in place, it will hopefully last for many years to come.

The BT boys arrived in the afternoon and joined the happy farmer as he got to work with a post hole borer in the horses field. Months of relentless nagging from eldest daughter, and the constant promises that the minute the extension roof was finished, finally saw the happy farmer making progress with the beginnings of a horse shelter.

Son arrived home from football training in a blaze of glory. Last night, at the annual presentation evening of the Boys Football Team, he was awarded the trophy for runner up as the under 14s most improved player. A curry bubbling away on the Rayburn I managed to persuade him and youngest to join me on a stroll to the woods in the late afternoon. The skies glazed over with a purple pink hue we made our way through the fields and across the road to the track that leads to Lily Loch, son kicking a football along the way. Disaster struck when the ball went flying off the track and down the waterfall of the burn that feeds the sewage plant. It was mother who saw herself, kitted out inappropriately in tights and skirt, scrambling down the bramble laden steep slope to the pool where the ball had managed to lodge itself, followed by son, who hung onto my jacket for dear life as I reached out across the burn to grab a long stick with which to free the ball as it dislodged and made its way further downstream. The huge grin that met me when I handed over the rescued ball made it all worth while, and thankfully those tights escaped relatively unscathed.

The Loch was frozen solid so as the sun set in the sky. We skimmed pebbles across its surface, son’s pebble winning the distance competition by far. It was a challenge to see who could throw a heavy stone hard enough to shatter the ice. Finally we headed home in the dusk along the track and back to the warm glow of the farmhouse where the happy farmer and the BT boys were sampling this year’s sloe gin. It takes many days of sampling you understand to get the flavour just right.

Until next time…..