Another blast from the past

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When our son first went to Ireland, like many young people, he didn’t have much money. He became a WOOFer. WOOF stand for ‘Willing Workers on Organic Farms’ although the farms aren’t always organic. Workers are given accommodation and meals in exchange for a certain amount of labour each day. The system is open to a certain among of abuse but, in Scotland, he fitted in with the community very well and stayed in touch with some of them for quite some years. The croft where he stayed was in the very north-west and, as you can see, the land was quite rugged and harsh. We were fortunate enough to spend several nights there and, on one of our hikes across to the coast, we came across two grinding stones on the site of an old mill. The photo shows our son on the left, the daughter of the croft-owner and a Scottish deerhound which was tall enough to put his head on the table at mealtimes, although thankfully that was strongly discouraged. EDIT: the acronym is actually WWOOF. Sorry about that.