With the OH, the wee lads, the pigs and the chickens in tow, I work a croft full-time and generally manage to maintain an illusion of nonchalantly incompetent self-sufficiency.
To give but one example...
I decided to pull out an old strainer post, so I hitched up a tow strap to my decrepit Landie, engaged low-low and proceeded in a southerly direction.
But to my amazement, after an initial hesitation the strainer post proceeded to follow me down the track. I stopped, got out to have a look and discovered the post was balanced in such a way that a third of it was still in the ground and had carved out a marvelous furrow.
As I was shaking my head in bemusement, I was started to hear laughter coming from our plantation of spruce trees and discovered my neighbour (a farmer of many years experience) in stitches.
Since then, I have been known in local farming circles as the one and only exponent of Aussie ploughing in the district...
Anyway, I digress from introducing myself.
While we rear pigs (and plan on breeding from our pedigree Berkshires), raise rare breed poultry (Scots Greys), struggle with bees (all dead this year from cold), tinker with solar power and a Lister generating plant running on WVO, mess about with ancient tools and piles of junk, I have but two really useful skills.
One, I am mad enough to think that the best way to get an 8in diameter, 8ft long strainer post up a hill is on my shoulder. Yes, the locals do stop and shout "get a tractor", but there's something strangely satisfying about carrying huge lumps of timber to one place, changing your mind, and then taking them somewhere else. All on my shoulder...
Two, I have an affinity (or genetic predisposition) to navvying. By that, I mean I could dig in the Olympics! Last year, I double dug 14 huge beds by hand, then dug beds for the soft fruit, and then moved a very, very large pile of dirt (put there by a JCB) with my shovel and barrow, then moved the pile again. Still not satisfied, I decided to dig out the collapsed retaining wall behind the steading with mattock, spade and shovel. Now, I sit outside in all weathers and gaze with fondness on the 30ft long, 5ft deep and 2ft wide ditch that resulted.
Yes, in Aussie parlance I have a few sheep loose in the top paddock!

Stonehead
PS Hi to Ina - the boys continue to enjoy their tractors. How many lambs are you sleeping with at the moment?
