Rob Duncan (longrob) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2014-10-31 19:59:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !closed, ~rob duncan |
Who? Rob & Uhura
Where? The Mill
What? Erm... shameful stuff probably.
When? Tuesday.
Rating? Possibly high
Open? God no.
For two days, Rob has been out at the farm with a reaper, hacking away at the ripe corn by hand, scything and cutting and pouncing and binding, until he felt himself near broken with the strain of the harvest. His muscles ached and tensed, but he worked from sunrise until he just couldn't cut any more, past dusk, keeping himself going by singing rhythmic snatches of old bothy ballads from back home.
And on the Tuesday evening, he loaded up Alba and carted the corn back to the mill ready to be bruised and ground down for meal and flour, the horse fed and watered and her riding tackle all removed for the evening. Only then did he realise how much he'd done, and he ran some water over his hands and face to try and cool down.