November 24th (Mon.)
Today was forecast rain and I thought I’d get the excuse to tootle about indoors doing odd jobs but no such luck, the morning was clear enough for me to feel guilty if I did little.
So I was out with the rotivator and set up the V-cut farrower on the back of it to cut the first of many drainage ditches which will bisect the future olive grove between each tree to take the water away from their roots.
There’s always a certain amount of buggering about with setting the farrower up and today was no different. Eldan was quick to find me. With his ‘Bob the Builder’ obsession the boy can pick up the clank of a wrench at a 100 yards and was quickly by my side shouting in my lughole

‘Daddy, what’re you doing ?’

He seems to have one volume at present, very very loud.
Aware that this task was a little beyond him as I did battle with the farrower he put his hand on my shoulder by way of support instead.

I proceeded to cut the long drainage channel out along one side of the field with the farrower with Eldan following behind me in the resultant trough. We always have a little chat about the dangers of the plough, and how he should keep a distance before proceeding on such joint ventures but I think it is far better for him to have careful exposure to these dangers from this age so he can grow in awareness. This goes for other things like the open brazier in the living room or the drop from the upper field to the garden. When I sit down and think about it there are a whole load of dangers the average 3 year old wouldn’t come into contact living in a surburban house. Jolly glad he has the chance to experience them all.

To quote from ‘Swallows and Amazons’ by Arthur Ransome. On asking their absent father if they might camp on a big island in the middle of the lake the children receive this telegram from him:

‘BETTER DROWNED THAN DUFFERS IF NOT DUFFERS WONT DROWN ‘

A little harsh perhaps but to the point.

It was breakfast, choriso, wrapped in tortilla with cheese and lime pickle mayonaisse (see the culinary peculiarities that ensue when daddy doesn’t buy enough food at the weekend). And after breakfast luckily the rain had set in for the day so it was down tools and inside to do this blog, drink big mugs of tea and tell Haine to get his smelly ass of the sofa about 20 times.

I looked out at the drainage channel I had created from the safety of the living room window and was happy to see it filling up with rain as intended.

[i]My son eating the dinner he had helped to marinate 3 days before, Venison steak. [/i]