We are in the middle of organising an open day here at Armadale. BBC Alba are coming to film it and as I have little Gaelic, we had to find some genuine speakers.
A couple of locals have agreed and we are lucky to have Angus, a very good Gaelic teacher from Farr High School, who is also coming along.
Angus also organises the Rural Skills programme. I take pupils, one afternoon a week, for a term. There is a real cross-section, from the very experienced to others who will never have encountered a farm animal.
I really enjoy their visits as they always have good music on their phones and seem to have every bit of local gossip I never hear.
This week I was approached by a school leaver who had attended the Rural Skills course to see if she could come and work with us at the lambing to gain further experience. A very loud ‘yes’ was my reply. A willing helper and an extra pair of hands are most definitely welcome at lambing.
I can remember being shown how to deliver my first lamb backwards by our dad when I was young.
The memory must be strong as it often evokes his words: “Be sure to check which ways the hooves are coming. Look for the tail. Don’t be too rough but pull quickly and firmly down to prevent the lamb from drowning”.
I could still take you to the exact spot on Armadale where I lambed her.
When I came home from college I was pretty naive. The first few years I was on a very steep learning curve and I still am. There is always something new to learn, and I try never to be complacent.
I was very lucky that after dad died James, who used to work with him here, came back to the hill at Armadale to gather it and show me how it was done. With more than 5,000 acres to cover, it was crucial for me to learn the routes the ewes took to bring them home safely. The time that he gave me set me up for the rest of my life.
So this back-end, when my niece, nephew and two friends wanted to come on a hill gather, it was James I turned to again. It was his job to walk them out on to the hill and space them across it so they pushed the sheep in on a big curve in front of them.
They would have covered seven miles on very unforgiving ground, but all made it home in high spirits.
They documented their day with the use of GoPros and drones.
After a good plate of mince and tatties, Frances, my niece, went to my computer and set to the task of editing and putting music to their film.
Of all the films we have done on social media, for me this is the one which is the most emotive.
The man who took the time to show me how to gather the hill 25 years before had taken a day off his own work to show the next generation.
All the teenagers could say to me on their way home at night was “James is a legend”.