|
The
Quality Control team wash and inspect their harvest thoroughly.
And pick out the lumps of sheep's crap. |
|
A fine
specimen, ready for slaughter. |
|
'Ere
that thur scrump int for thee, lit lun. |
|
The
Scratter. Apples are fed through
here and milled into a pulp that can
be easily pressed. The cider makers
appear to have disappeared for another
tea-break when this photo was taken. |
|
The
first casualty of the day, as Lord Lucan loses both arms
through the scratter! |
|
Oh no,
that's not what you want to see on a sunday morning. Cover
it up man, this is a cider-farm, not a nudist colony! |
|
The
Dog and Jeff wrestle with a couple of
stiff poles, trying to squeeze as much
juice as possible through the wood. |
|
Gents
has just produced a healthy yield. |
|
Ridgey
gets one in the eye, and in
this case Jeff the Chef isn't to blame.. |
|
Lord
Lucan and Aaron Brown Demi-John swap tips on how to disappear
from public without a trace. Lucan has been missing for
years, while Aaron often vanishes for periods of 90 minutes
every saturday afternoon. |
