Well, at last it has happened. Mossie has threatened us for years that he would sell up because the job just wasn't paying. No-one listened. But the sign is up, "Farm for Sale".

Well, at last it has happened. Mossie has threatened us for years that he would sell up because the job just wasn't paying. No-one listened. But the sign is up, "Farm for Sale".

Before we take a closer look, it's sackcloth and ashes time. I must apologise to the unnamed (thank goodness) bankers to whom I was unfair last week. Well, maybe I wasn't unfair, but I did get the story wrong.

I told you about Dr Eric Rahim, who, following a distinguished career in journalism in Pakistan, had come to University College London. There he had been awarded a doctorate which was of sufficient quality to earn him a lectureship in economics at the University of Strathclyde.

I told you that Rahim's request for £50 to go to Austria to be married had been turned down by his cautious bankers.

The point I was making was that, in contrast to today's men in red gallowses who give thousands of pounds of plastic credit to students on no security, old-fashioned bankers made every pound a prisoner or even a hostage. They were careful to a fault.

But I got the story wrong. Rahim's request was not turned down. Not at all. They just wanted security for the loan which would have been a whole fortnight's pay.

He had no acceptable security, but if he got his professor (later Sir Kenneth Alexander of Upper Clyde Shipbuilders, chancellor of Aberdeen University, vice chancellor of Stirling University, chairman of the Highlands and Islands Development Board etcetera) to come along to the bank to guarantee the loan it might be all right and could Alexander bring some of his own shares as security?

In even more fairness to the bank, when Rahim said "no", he couldn't ask for that but Alexander would come to the bank to sign for him, they decided that it would be sufficient without the professor even bringing his electricity bill. They were willing to take that much of a chance.

So what's this about the Guru of Grain selling the farm? Well, of course, it's not quite like that. It isn't Mossside that's in the papers. It's Iron Brae, just over 100 acres about a mile away, which Mossie's father bought at least 40 years ago.

That hasn't stopped the tongues wagging. "Aye, they say he'll be paying 30p in the pound."

He's asking for offers over £4500 an acre and, with barley down to £95 a tonne and the rain falling, who can argue with that if he gets it?

Now that Potions and the Elder Investment are the farmers of Little Ardo, I haven't much of my own to blaw about - but I do have something today.

The Farmer has been asked to the great Wigtown Book Festival. Okay, he's only one among 150 authors who, between last Friday and this Sunday, will give talks on their literary works, but he is the first farmer from Aberdeenshire to be asked.

Some are celebrities like Sir David Steel and Brian Keenan and others are real writers like James Kelman.

So in the County Buildings at Wigtown on Thursday at 2pm, the Farmer will take the stage to talk about his book about the first 80 years of his family matriarchy at Little Ardo on the southern border of the Earldom of Buchan.

It is a door the Farmer has not been through before so he is looking forward to it.

Tickets are £6 and you don't even get a drink, so I can't see there being a problem getting in.

We are looking forward to seeing a bit of Scotland that I haven't seen since I used to come to the mart at Castle Douglas.

Once it was to give a talk on "my farm and how not to farm it". Usually it was to the pedigree Galloway Cattle Sales. On one of the last occasions I was so cold that James Biggar, father of Donald, the current chairman of Quality Meat Scotland, insisted on taking me to a garage where they had waxed jackets and he saw to it that I got the Biggar family discount.

I am also looking forward to meeting Pennywashers. He was one of the original white settlers who blessed Aberdeenshire with their money and their expertise during the late 1980s and 1990s.

Pennywashers was an early member of the Discussion Group which used so to enliven Sunday nights at the Salmon Inn. He still has farms in Aberdeenshire but his main base is now near Wigtown, where he has holiday cottages. He has kindly offered us one.

Just one of many Penny-washers stories is about the time he didn't lose his licence.

The lad went in for a pint at the Salmon after a thirsty day's work. The pint became several to the point where a body loses count.

The phone rang. Disaaaster! Pennywashers's sheep had got out on the road. It was a dark night and they were on a fast stretch of road. Somebody might have an accident.

Everybody in the pub was sober enough to drive but there was no-one nearly sober enough to blow up a policemen's bag.

So, bravely, and in the selfless interest of road safety, Pennywashers took his licence in his hands and rode to the rescue. He got his sheep rounded up and the fence repaired. That would have been that had not the police come along and breathalysed him.

It's an amazing story, but not incredible. At least the sheriff believed it and let Pennywashers keep his licence.