I don’t know where they are. She's standing outside an outbuilding.
In Scotland. I’d say, a farm.
The little girl is 7 years old and her name is Carol.
Carol has a Mom and Dad and two cousins.
My mother used to like to collect the eggs.
By the dark door shed there is a chicken.
The chicken’s name is Billie and she’s about 7 or 8 years old.
Carol likes the chicken, she feeds it and puts it in her room and plays with it.
In the doorway I reckon there’s someone standing there. You can tell by the face and hair.
It could be the farmer. I would say he’s related to her. It could be her grandad.
Carol looks happy, all that fresh air. In this picture it looks as if she collects the eggs.
It looks like there’s sunshine. We know because there’s a shadow behind her.
We are in the 1950’s.
Carol hears pigs, cows and nanny goats. And sheep. Chick-lets, making a noise. Birds whistling.
We hear several tones. Animal sounds. We smell manure. It smells nice. No, it doesn’t, it smells horrible!
We smell haymaking. It makes me feel like I’m back in Scotland as a child.
There’s a smell of early morning milking. It could take us back to early days.
What about when the farmer takes his hay to the market and then he takes the cows and beef to auction, to get the best price for them.
The farmers have a competition to see who has got the best cow or bull. They’ll win a rosette, whomever has the best cow or bull.