I remember I’m still kneeling and get to my feet. The tractor stops in front of me.“Get in the shovel!”I scramble into the metal cavity. It’s ...aked with dried mud and hay, which feel unexpectedly warm against my bare feet. It moves, and I grip the front as I’m elevated, although not so high that I obstruct the farmer’s view. With astonishing speed, the tractor races across the courtyard, through an open gate, and up the hill. From time to time I point in the direction I ran from, remembering to. Shit happens, I thought grinning to myself.There are worse things that can happen I suppose and it transpired that all of us need some relief and it actually became quite comical in the end, all of us wandering around in the pitch black, trying to see what we were doing and where. I think it was more by luck than judgement that we were able to get through our 'doings' without a major disaster.That was until it arrived.The kids had done their thing and were practicing their mud stomping,. More

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