29 April, 2010
One of the questions most frequently asked of me is, “so, what do you do?”
The obvious answer would be “I work a croft”.
Other replies with equal validity would be “I look after the children”, “I manage the finances”, “I keep pigs and chickens”, “I do the gardening”, “I produce our own food”, ”I tinker” and quite a few others along the same lines.
But, when I strip everything down to the basics, there really are just two things that I do.
The first is walk.
I walk from dawn to dusk, and a fair bit of the night, too.
I walk the boys here and there. I take the dog for walks.
I walk out to the pigs. I walk out to the pigs some more. And I walk out to them yet again.
I also walk around the pigs. And I walk among them.
I walk out to the chickens. I walk around them. I walk through them.
I walk up the hill. I walk down the hill. I walk across the hill. And I walk those walks time and time again.
I walk the fencelines. I walk on rat hunts. I want on rabbit hunts. I walk on pigeon hunts.
I walk to the village. I walk back.
I walk up the hill. I walk down the hill. I walk across the hill.
I walk back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, as I follow the rotavator across the field.
I walk back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, as I push the ridging plough across the field.
I walk along the furrows as I plant tatties. And I walk as I plant onion sets. An I walk as I plant out kale and cabbage.
I walk back to the house to collect the seeds. I walk the field as I sow the seed.
I walk to the workshop to change tools.
I walk up the hill. I walk down the hill. I walk across the hill.
I walk into the buildings. I walk through the buildings. I walk out again.
My day is not measured in hours. It’s measured in miles covered walking.
Walk, walk, walk and walk some more.
So, what else can I fit in around all that walking?
Carrying.
As I walk I carry 20 litres of water at a time—10, 20, 30, 40 times I carry them each and every day. More in hot weather. More in freezing weather.
As I walk I carry 10kg of pig feed at a time. Or 10kg of poultry feed. Or 30kg of neeps. Or 30kg of tatties.
I carry 8ft long, 8-10in diameter strainer posts as I walk up the hill. Or down the hill. Or across the hill.
I carry half a dozen 5ft 6in, 3in diameter fence posts as I walk. Or a 14lb maul, a 12lb sledgehammer and a 10lb crowbar.
I’ll pick up the 25lb garden roller and carry it up the hill as I walk, because it’s quicker and easier than rolling it up.
I’ll tuck a couple of 10-15kg piglets under my arms as I walk their sow to her pen.
I’ll carry a 25-30kg weaner from its pen as I walk to its new owner’s trailer.
I’ll carry the washing as I walk out to the clothes line.
And I’ll carry 25-30kg of shopping on my back as I walk home from the village.
Rat, rabbit and pigeon hunting means carrying the 6.6lb Gamo CFX air rifle up the hill, across the hill and down the hill.
Sometimes I’ll carry one of the boys as I walk into the village. Or back from the village. Or up the hill. Or down the hill.
I’ll carry 20-40kg boulders as I walk out of the field. I’ll carry them as I walk down the hill. And I’ll carry them as I walk across the croft to the dykes and the stone piles.
Walking.
Carrying.
That’s what I do.
I hate the “what do you do” question… because even when I try to explain I invariably hear “oh… so you’re just a farm-wife”
Yeah… Just.
I love this entry – the simple overview and the complex explanation. Perfick.
It is akin to the question potters get asked. If you are not throwing on the wheel, but are doing anything else- decorating, mixing glazes, kneading clay……”When are you going to do some work?”
I fear for your joints!
A shot of grease once a week does wonders. Not a squeak or a rattle.
Whisky grease, I presume?
I find myself wondering how much you have to eat to fuel it all – do you eat a lot? (Sorry if that seems personal, but with all the talk in the media about obesity and lack of activity, I wonder how much food serious activity does burn.)
I was thinking along those lines too – goodness knows how many calories you burn on an average day.
Ah, Worrals….. you automatically eat sufficient to enable you to carry out your duties.
You don’t have the time to sit down and scoff food like it is going out of fashion.
I have seen many a young army recruit, perhaps overweight, turn into a fit young man in a few short weeks as they soon learn to eat what is put in front of them and in my experience there is always plenty of good food on the plate. You eat what you need for the work you do!
oh yes those snide comments ‘so you don’t work then?’
My answer is ‘no I don’t work I am just a disabled single parent bringing two children one of whom is autistic and home educated because he can’t cope with school. But no I don’t work, I don’t have to!’
mm some of my words have disappeared there!
Should say I don’t have time to!
That was beautifully written. You are also a poet, I think.
Something like this perhaps…
Morning
Morning is the
Awakening
Of a seed
Cast adrift
By the sowing
Of a long
Summer’s day.
I write poetry and used to perform at a number of venues in London, Perth (Australia) and a few other places.
I love the hat! I am sure that the poetry has something to do with keeping cool under that hat! You won’t need the destress of a massage.
Think of the calf muscles and biceps from all that repetitive action. Madonna would be better off crofting, no? And I’m aching from a day bent over sheep and dagging their shitty arses from the spring grass diet.