The longest swath or the longest furrow is always the one round the outside of the field. I seem to walk and work about the farm these days in a reflective daze, half looking back, and half looking forward, with every thing starting to overtake my way...
I was brought up to cater for a two hundred day winters, and rarely did the cows go out until the third week of April. Hay with kale was fed up to the turn of the year then on to hay and stored mangols for the rest of the winter, corn was fed according...
Time is ticking by, time that will not be repeated, were not living life as a rehearsal, we live life now, this minuet, this hour, this day, this week, this month, this year. Time is one of those things that when it is passed, it is gone for ever, then...