Let me tell you something about farmers.
They have to eat at 1pm. Exactly. They have to have a 20 min snooze somewhere between 1 and 2 pm. They like meat and vegetables with gravy. They don’t show too much emotion unless the overdraft is reaching it’s max, or the price of the 50kg bag of feed has increased by R5, or someone hijacked the tractor after a “carefree moment’ and drove it into a wall, or the dog dies, or the chickens poo on the Landcruiser bonnet.
So there I was nestled under a mohair blanket on Sunday evening draped over my Fabric Library R400 a metre upholstered chair. ‘Johnzee,’ I said enthusiastically, ‘Do you know it’s Valentines Day on Tuesday?’
He whipped his head back and retorted: ‘You’re not starting with that bullshit this year!’.
Well, that was me finished. The subject of Valentines Day brought up and shot down in a blaze of fire. Before I’d even mentioned Lindt chocolate or a Kindle Fire. Bloody hell!
Farmer turned his head and continued watching Carte Blanche.