The Turmeric Run

We have started to feed Delia daily now.  I just don’t want her to get any thinner than this.  It falls off her, this time of year, so very easily (lucky cow!)

Anywho, she knows the drill, see the bucket and follow the bucket. I feel I take my life into my own hands carrying this out.

In Leradale, there is a cosy little shed (sans roof) that is proving a very useful place to feed Delia.A bit back-breaking to get in and out of, but I manage.

We are quickly surrounded.

OH fashioned a gate thing to keep the predators out.

So the predators just circle the shed and making wanting faces at Delia and I.

Oh, how the poor starved suffer.

I can read their thoughts. 

It’s not difficult.


But Tiddles is sensible. He chatted up Daisy first in case she just happened to have a carrot about her person, like you do.

The wall is probably eighteen inches high but the ponies haven’t jumped down.  They know what Delia would do to them.

It’s a full time job, all this wanting.

These poor starving ponies live in a huge field with grass everywhere.

Plenty, plenty grass.  How they suffer so.

Once Delia has finished her grub, she barges her way out.

Notice how Storm is first in to check for leftovers – there were none.


For as long as Delia wants to flatten me for her daily bucket of Golden Paste (a turmeric mixture) and conditioning cubes, and can keep the weight on over winter, then all is good.

















Delia’s enthusiasm for food is her reason to live.  I can relate to that.



The Annual Craft Fair

I haven’t been to the annual Shetland craft far or a while so I thought I would pop by.

There was a huge variety of stalls offering a wide range of amazing crafts.

Basically, my task was do some Christmas shopping.

I succeeded on a few things but really I just saw stuff I wanted for me.  Just me.  No one else.  Like this terrier.

The fried egg plates (swoon) and the beautiful wild egg plates (OMG! – want, want, want). 

Everyone was crafting.  Gloves – can I have too many?  I particularly wanted the one on the model hand.  Loving the striped cuffs.

Lots of useful stuff. 

There was a good Christmas feel and theme.

These clever puffins caught my eye.

Fair Isle clothes pegs – who knew?

These wall pieces were incredible.


Being Shetland, there was knitting.

And weaving.

Shetland folk are so clever. 

These nip glasses were wonderful. I seriously hankered after just one.

There could’ve been more of a sheep theme going on, but perhaps it was good this picture was already sold – I may have no more actual hanging space for any pictures.  Ceilings?  Can you put pictures on ceilings?

Chocolate with gin – all my favourite food groups.  Nuff said.

Beautiful Hardanger fiddles – a traditional eight string instrument that originates from Norway.

Exquisitely decorated and played beautifully.  I stayed and listened.

So much to look at.

Wow – this picture is just wow! 

This tree made me smile.  Perfect for the minimalist Christmas.

















Awesome Fair Isle. I need those Fair Isle socks and maybe the gloves with the matching hat.











I adored this pony, though I have fields of the buggers. I don’t need another one (I told myself).













Naturally dyed wool – and I am going to have a card weaving lesson!

We all wanted something.


There was just so much to want.







Puzzah Update

So, one week on, how are we all getting on? 

Was this the right decision – to take Puzzah, castrate him and let him live with the others (who were already a very happy settled little family)?

Well, so far, I can honestly say Puzzah has been nothing but a gentleman.  He has perfect manners, comes when he is called and is good around the others. 





It is lovely to see Puzzah change, trust and develop.

We have all settled into a good routine – in the morning I open up a field where they eat their breakfast.

They then stay in their field for the rest of the day while cars and people come and go so if the gate gets left open, then it doesn’t matter.  No one can escape into the hill.

Then, in the afternoon, once we are closing down for the evening, I open the gate and everyone comes in around the house.

Puzzah is learning that I want to talk to him.

This is all new to him – to be a pet.

He knows his name.  He comes when he is called.

It is important he learns that there is more to being a sheep.

I think he is getting it. This is the first time I have sat down with him – seriously, this is not to be advised with a butty rammy sheep.


And now Puzzah eats carrots.

It has taken a while – a whole week – for him to know what a carrot is, let alone eat it.

I think he has got the plot now.



Carrots are the new biscuits in this house (only for sheep, mind).





So I am hugely pleased with Puzzah’s progress.

One of us! One of us!

I think this was the right decision.  He’s a dude.

Meeting the Neighbours

Two small Icelandic horse foals, Dreki and Lilja, are really rather smitten with their Shetland pony neighbours in the next door field.

That would be the Minions (minus Albie and Newt) plus the old ladies – Vitamin, Delia and Fivla.

Any minute the foals can manage to escape their mothers, Hetja and Brá, they both come a-wandering down to the dividing fence for a chat.

I guess this is the first time in their lives that they have ever met other equines, now I think about it.  They had no contact with the others when they lived at Thordale.

May the Gods help them then!

Some are better examples of good behaviour than others (*** cough *** that would not be Storm then!)

Dreki is quite smitten with the Shetland girls.

Funnily enough it was Vitamin he wanted to talk to most.

She won’t take any bad manners.  Of course no one else is helping – noseys through the wire.  Not good.

Little foals must know their place.

They will soon be told when they overstep the mark.

I don’t want to put up electric wire but if the fence starts to get ruined, then I will have no choice.  I hate electric fences and foals.  Not a good combination.  Failing that I will take the Shetland girls out, and chuck them all in together.  Hetja loathes Shetland ponies with a passion and I don’t want to subject them to her loathing. The Minions know Hetja well and can stay out of her way.

I am hopeful they will all soon get bored of each other. 

The grass in the Shetland pony field is up the hill and by hanging around to talk to the foals, they will be starving themselves. 

No self respecting Shetland pony would ever do that for very long. 




Over at Leradale

Before the latest gale (on its way), I went over to see the ladies and their foals who are now happily living at Leradale.


The girls know this field very well, having spent last winter expanding in pregnancy together (and they have not lost their hard-earned baby weight).

This is really is the most perfect field so I am sure they are happy to live here with their not-so-little foalios.



While they are nursing their young, the mares need green grass to produce milk. 

And the little ones need the green grass to grow.




I think they look fabularse.

Everyone will be visited daily.




Special skills may also be worked on – hello, Mr Headcollar (yes, again and again and again).

At some stage there may also be hello to my vet for Dreki’s castration.  Needs must. Dreki is not “stallion material”.  (When folk say this, I have visions of John Lewis’ material department from my childhood.  Loads of material on large rolls and there is a stallion one out there.)

I have plans for Dreki.  If he promises never to trot, he can be my next horse.  Plans far away, though and a long way to travel before we get there.


Anywho, as long as the foalios are happy. 

These two seem to have developed a bond now, which is lovely to see.  I have a theory that Lilja is the brains of the two and Dreki just does as she wants and then takes the blame.

And they haven’t met the neighbours yet……


(to be continued/ …..)