This year I’m yotting – (though not around the world)
This is the Year of Thrift.
YoT. Paired cruck consonants harnessed by the void between.
This describes a dynamic, so it has a verb attached – To yot. I yot, you yot, he,she,it &c. We are all yotting, sounds like yachting-well, if anyone mistakes the two -who am I to correct them?
Breeding lilacs, or even highland cattle, out of the dead land – does not pay. All agricultural input costs – animal feed, contracting costs, transport, mechanical repairs, you name it, have multiplied. Beef prices worldwide are better but highland beef, the tastiest healthiest there is, does not satisfy the growing market. Pedigree breeding suffers accordingly: if the market valued the beef, the price of the top quality breeding animals would benefit. It has stayed static: the breeders get greyer, more turn to ‘commercial’ breeds, the pool of quality shrinks.
So I wait by the dry river (metaphorically that is – no doubt in reality the river Spey will shortly inundate my lower ground) – with my animals tended, raised and improved as best I can. Waiting for change?- perhaps, though that would mean wishing away the present: wishing life away in fact.
So I look at the sky, watch the birds, walk the hill, tend my animals. Tonight is clear and cold, two feeders need filled.
Come on Nog-we’re off outside!