My earthly hero, who left the stage of life way too soon, will I get a curtain call to hug you one last time.....I doubt it, but know, wherever you are in the vastness of time, I appreciate all you did for me, for us all. Not so much for all the parasites in the close and extended family/next generational families, that fed off your hard graft, to aquire that what they purport to have rightly attained themselves. RIP my dearly beloved father, it was great while it lasted. 

Circa 1979, cleaning Dads truck. When pick up trucks were made for men and grafting! That's me in the red jumper, with brothers Bill and Paul. 

Kids today don't even know what a lawnmower is, too bone idle to clean elderly ladies autumn leaves up, and afraid of sunlight. 

Ten years later in 1989, my best friend, a Case IH 956XL. Many a happy time with a four furrow reversible behind her. I'm now the proud owner of a die cast replica that sits on the mantelpiece!

 

My wife and soulmate Rosalyn. I'm blessed beyond immeasurable amounts, to be able to exist and share the same window of time as this truly great lady.

Nice to see another brood of Jackdaws this year in this derelict,run down building. It's lovely to see wildlife utilising that, which humans label as worthless, or easily come by. I have a particular affinity to Jackdaws, after helping two babies get from absolute dependence, to proficient flying capabilities, to saying goodbye! They are truly magnificent birds, steeped in legend and loyalty, similar to the legendary albatross. 

Jack and Jake. Fly free me hearties! It was a pleasure to have you around. Report back to me anytime both of you. Maybe you heard Odins call! 

David Bradford on the Matador, and Wally Wright on Fordson. The halcyon days of Glebe farm.

Bale carting, circa 1986. The late David Creasey (foreground) and late Wally Wright. 

The silage clamp at Hanthorpe farm, circa mid '80's.

Imagine the comments about smells on the local Facebook site, whence this was opened every morn'!

Conventional baling, with what was quite possibly the most reliable tractor ever made, a Case IH 885XL. Bales collected in sledge, ready for the flat eight grab on the JCB 520-4. Good old days!

My handsome Grandfather, who worked his backside off and died young, so most of the subsequent generations and it's cling on parasites, could enjoy very comfortable lives.

RIP Doug. You deserved a contemporary 9 till 3 job, not a 95 hour week.