It is lovely today. Hot and sunny. We are all enjoying it.
After lunch, I went out, armed with my black bin bag, to go a-ragworting in the fields. I loathe ragwort. It is a very dangerous plant to horses, sheeps, everyone.
Of course, I also took my camera.
And, of course, BeAnne, Her Maj, still sporting her beautiful neckerchief, came too.
First up was my little separate croft, Clothie.
A perfect five acres with its own spring and old crofthouse and outbuildings.
Apparently, it used to be a school many years ago and is mentioned in the Parish Records.
Clothie is now sadly derelict. I cannot get permission to renovate the house without having to build a tarmac road up to the property, which I do not want. I want it to stay as a little crofthouse situate in the middle of the scattald.
So, I dragged my binbag and dog around looking for ragwort and I was happily suprised. For the first time in over 15 years, there was barely a plant to pull up.
And that is totally due to my daughters, Daisy and Floss’ huge efforts.
They have been brilliant. Working so hard, regularly going out pulling ragwort.
So, for my part, I blocked up the hole under the fence where the hill lambs get in.
My ragwort search and destroy patrol then moved to the other fields around the house.
Again, barely nothing.
Therefore, I had a much-deserved rest.
I was instantly spied sitting down.
And then it was a case of What’s in the bag? Can I have the bag? I need to eat the bag. My only recourse was to sit on the bag to keep it away from prying teeth!
My reward – an extensive Minion hug sitting in the Shetland summer sun.