Step outside the back door and you know that it’s harvest time. First the unmistakable dusty smell of harvest, then the steady noise of the combine in a distant field and the roar of the tractors driving into the yard …
… followed by the bang of the trailer tailgate as they empty their load of wheat.
It is a slightly fraught time of year, when everything seems to be done at a run, tempers run short and the weather forecasts consulted and sworn about more than usual.
Thankfully, I’m no longer required to drive tractors and corn cart but have slipped into the role of chief gofer, provider of refreshments and soothing influence.
I am more suited to some of these roles than others.