Butterfly

It has been raining, which is good for the garden and which, of course, I spent an hour watering last night!

  

After a quick nip to the shops, Mum and spent the afternoon making things.  I made a curlywurly sheep to take back and to add my potential shop stock in Shetland.

Meanwhile Mum ambitiously decided to make a Shetland pony.  I think she realised later that needle-felting is harder than it looks.

After a good few hours spent stabbing everything on the kitchen table, we had a break with a wander around the garden to regroup and regain our sanity, whatever that might be. Stabbing takes a lot of concentration if only to miss your fingers and not cover said creation in blood!

While we were walking, Mum noticed a butterfly had landed close by. I crept up on it and took photos totally enchanted by its beauty and colour.

We then looked it up and identified it as a Red Admiral. I adore butterflies. We don’t really have many, if any, in Shetland.  Not beautiful ones like these.

Teddy, of course, remains his usual wonderful self.  He is so happily settled now and such a different dog from the anxious little chap who arrived a few years back.  Mum and Ted are inseparable which is just as it should be.

Teaching How to Sheep

Englandshire is full.  Absolutely full.  So many people, so many cars but so little space.

We went out this morning. I drove Mum’s car and all I could think was thank God I learned to drive (over 30+ years ago) in central London because I doubt I would have the nerve, to be honest.  But drive I did, which is always a bit of a worry for me and all my London driving skills came back.  My father always said I drove like a London black cab, which I took as a compliment at the time, though I don’t think he meant it like that.

So Mum and I did our messages and I drove home with a huge sigh of relief. We have spent the rest of the morning sitting in grateful peace in the garden enjoying the sheer beauty of it all.

In the afternoon, I showed Mum how I make my needle-felted sheep out of Shetland wool. Yes, I had stuffed my suitcase with six bags of wool, my selection of needles and sponge pads.  Mum is a sculptor and wants to have a shot at making needle felted Shetland ponies. So she watched me make a sheep and I tried to explain the technicalities of the whole process.

I am looking forward to seeing what will be created tomorrow.  At least it won’t be a sheep, which I will go on making this week so I have some stock to take to the shop when I return.

Somewhere In Englandshire

I got up at God knows what o’clock and drove in thick fog to the airport.

Luckily the last flight the night before that flew in was my flight out to Aberdeen.  A few hours break there and then onwards to Heathrow, a taxi journey and I arrived at my Mum’s house.  I think few flights were getting in and out of Shetland for the rest of the day so I was lucky.

I am now exhausted and about to go to sleep so forgive me if I keep this brief.

The garden is beautiful.

Teddy is in good form, as ever and the apple of my mother’s eye! He has a look of Her Maj at times.  Just a glimpse.  Out of the corner of my eye I see her.

And so to bed. I’ve been awake far too long.

The Most Beautiful Girls in the World

I am flying south (fog-willing – we have been fogbound most of the day here) to spend a week with my mother in the Home Counties.

So I went round saying my goodbyes to all my horses and ponies.  I leave at the crack of sparrows (05:00) tomorrow and take two flights, changing at Aberdeen for Heathrow.

I shall miss my chaps and chapesses but it will be lovely to spend time with my mother.

I know Sóley will change in just a week  Her baby foal fluff is falling out now and she is much darker underneath. I will have to convince my daughters to take photos for me so I can keep up-to-date.

Sóley has already grown two front teefs which she is very proud of.

And quite right too.  She is a very beautiful little filly.

  

Lilja is looking pretty fantastic too.  She was wandering about looking moody in the mysterious foggy light.  She is still very taken with Sóley who divides her time equally between her sister and her mother with lots of lovely cantering in between up and down the hills.  It is delightful to watch and of course I never have the camera.

 

So that’s me all ironed and packed getting ready for the Big Smoke and the Big Heat.  It is very hot south – about double what it is here.  I am not a fan of being hot so will complain bitterly.  I have told everyone I will miss them.  I imagine taking Haakon with me on the journey and unpacking him for my mother to meet.  She would get a surprise!

My Little Bear

My little bear is full of beans at the moment.  Aged 13, she rules us with her paw of iron.

But Her Maj’s enthusiasm for life, or more realistically getting us to do what she wants, keeps her young and happy.

We are all, of course, her willing slaves.  She is our everything.

This is the steeley Patterdale terrier Look of Determination.  Ignore it at your cost.

And this is Lambie’s version thereof.

With added Wininng Smile as he runs to the owner of the packet of Ginger Nuts.

‘Bert is still having horn issues and is refusing to talk to anyone much.

Meanwhile, we are sitting en famille at the ever disintegrating and shrinking picnic table (the sheep are methodically eating their way through it having finished an old front door) watching the Icelandic horses annoy BeAnne.

It is a never-ending sport. They hang their heads over the fence, we shout “watch them BeAnne” and she rushes off in full rage to bite errant noseys which have quickly been withdrawn to the safety of behind the fence

The horses know exactly what they are doing.  They have been taunting BeAnne for years.  They love it. She loves it.

This is an ancient and thoroughly enjoyable sport.  One day she tells herself, just one day!

We ❤️ BeAnne Duvet Soufflé Princess Chantelle Shaznay du Mezzanine.  Indeed we do.