As a kid I used to spend my summers tattie howkin, (picking potatoes), in the fields around here.The one over the hedge to the East is next to the golf course so we used to find a lot of wayward struck golf balls when working this field which was always a bit of an extra income for us. The field to the West was where the bull lived. We used to stand on the back of the trailer in the field and throw brock, (small potatoes that would be fed to the livestock), at this poor thing. No wonder it was such an angry beast!!
It was a no frills operation working here. Tea was supplied twice a day in old jam jars by the farmers better half and when the field was cleared you were allowed to search for potatoes missed by the howkers, (a boillin) and take them home for your mum. You were collected at 8 in the morning and the tractor dragged you on the back of the trailer to the fields and returned you home at 5. If it rained you tied sacks to your back to try and stay dry.
10 shillings a day was the rate, (I think?). Aye, those were the days .....not!!
Wheres that lamp?
Those nice people at the burgh built a passing place / parking spot to admire this view.
Cheers Coastwise