'March came and with it lambing time, and for six weeks it rained solidly. A cold rain which went through everything, night falling early and lasting forever. Surface water poured down the saturated bank and the peat bog where if one didn't actually sink in was in places ankle deep in water, dark and invisible at night until one stepped in it.

Came April and the rain eased off and the Brecon Boys came over for a couple of weeks - 40 miles each way - and laid the hedge down the bank, and I was able to start hedging along the lane and a new gate was installed, the first.

The cycle moved on and hay making time arrived, and the poor weather returned. My young neighbour came with his mower and the grass was cut. Then came a period of sporadic showers, and every time I took the tedder through and shook it up to let the air get at it the skies would open and the whole lot was wet and lying flat again. At last the weather relented and it was baled, and with hippies help it was all stacked and carried down to be loaded in the barn.

And then onto the next thing, like getting the lambs to market, duly graded and sold. The first actual fruits of labour, months of work and care put in pens and disposed of in less than two minutes.

Taking advantage of a relatively quiet time, one of the sheds was refurbished with stalls and drainage channels. A lot of concrete, but at last cattle could be tethered which made handling much easier.

And then came shearing time, and for two days my young neighbour ensconced himself in the shed corner whilst ewes were caught, rendered up to him for clipping and released to outside, the fleeces rolled and put into the large containers provided by the Wool Marketing Board to await collection. The second fruits harvested'.