Going Out

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There was a weird eerie light this morning, when I went to fetch the buckets in to wash before putting them away.

The “big” horses had let themselves out and looked very picturesque in front of Stourbrough Hill capped with low cloud.

(173-metre summit located at the center of the Walls Peninsula)

The sheep were also meandering their way out of the paddock and into the big field.

They remain wary of the horses for absolutely no reason.  Shetland ponies, well yes, I can understand, but not the horses.  They’re no bother to anyone.

All the sheep held their collective breath and went past the totally ignoring horses with their eyes closed.

“Don’t notice me, don’t notice me, don’t notice me” I am sure I could hear.

For some reason known only to herself, Dahlia had been left behind.  She soon caught up, though.

Meanwhile, in the wee paddock with the wee shed, Vitamin was busy offering a washing-up service on all buckets.

“No food too small” is her motto.

She did a very thorough job.

And I told her so.  Well done and thank you, Vitamoobag. You’ve saved me a job.

Fivla had just vacated the shed and was doing her own thing – more eating then.

And apparently I have still yet to be forgiven for being disappointed with Pepper.

Celery For All!

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Lambie et al have just discovered that Flossie is here now and that she isn’t Daisy!  I mean who knew? Honestly, I do sometimes wonder at the size of brain for an average sheep who should know better.

I left them all reacquainting themselves and drove over to Turriefield where I volunteer to pack vegetables.

Today I was “on tomatoes” and then a large variety of other veg.

I came back home at lunchtime armed with a huge black bin-liner of celery tops and discarded outer stalks.

I was going to give the contents to the Shetland ponies later but they were already milling around the containers looking hopeful, so I emptied it out over the fence for them.

The ponies were thrilled.  The loud munching sounds were wonderful.  A bag of celery is always a huge hit and they have all been practising their hard-done-by look recently while I remain vigilant about their diet.

 

Tiddles ate his stalks like spaghetti, forever chasing them into his mouth.

The ponies had a lot to eat and later, when Floss dutifully went out to poo-pick the track, I asked her if she had seen any leaf/stalk remnants.  She replied that she hadn’t even known they had been eating celery so obviously no evidence remained.

Meanwhile, Gussie has decided Monster will be his BFF. Monster does not agree or give his permission.  I feel this relationship will not improve.

We Are Absolutely Not Talking To…..

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We are absolutely not talking to Pepper today.  She has disgraced herself beyond redemption.

She was found with a baby Muscovy duckling hanging out of her mouth – tragically, dead.  I am pretty sure it was the one and only duckling that I didn’t know had hatched.  Mummy Duck has been nesting under the container for, what seems like, years and finally produced a baby, only for Pepper to immediately murder it.

Pepper has been following me around all day, begging forgiveness and we’ve had a long conversation about friends, not food but I fear it has gone in one ear and out the other.  And to quote my grandmother “I am very disappointed”, which is far worse than furious in our house.

No else cares or possibly knows about her heinous crime.

Meanwhile, we are all talking to Newt.

Because he has a yummy scrummy nosey that needs kissing.

Go on, I dare you!

Newt is today’s Good Boy.  Mostly because he is standing in the only clean container and not stirring up trouble, though I did hear a rumour at breakfast that he was his usual despotic self, but it was only a rumour, mind. It’s not like he killed our one and only duckling that I didn’t know we had.

Oh, Pepper – the disappointment.

Goodbye Daisy!

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Today we all said goodbye to Daisy who has been staying here for just over a week. She arrived on my birthday and that was a lovely present.

As OH is out of action for some weeks, Daisy came home to take on his chores and to help me out.

I also think she came home to see the animals too.

It was lovely to see Daisy and we all enjoyed her company very much.  Bibble (on the left) is Daisy’s childhood horse.  She said he was “just the same as ever”.

Daisy’s main task this past week has been to poo-pick the track for me – a heavy and arduous job that my back hates.

Daisy now hands her bucket/gloves/shovel to Flossie who flew in yesterday to take over, like some ghastly relay without the running, though.

Fivla is Floss’ childhood pony and obviously she was thrilled to see her too.

So I spent my day driving Daisy down to the southern most end of the island to the airport (Sumburgh or LSI).

As Wikipedia states Sumburgh “is famous as the only active airport in the world with a public road crossing directly across one of its runways, managed with a level crossing and safety barriers“.

Indeed it is and there is something secretly rather subversive but thrilling about driving across it but we are allowed to if the barriers are not down (and it’s the only way to get to the airport so we really have no choice). If you run the barriers, however, you are breaking the law.

And, yes, the two runways end up at the sea (I took this photo a few years’ back going home after another airport run).

So goodbye to Daisy and a huge thank you. Love Mum xx

Bloody Ragwort

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It’s not all hugging ponies and sheep around here.  Sometimes we have to do real work.

And today it was pulling ragwort, a job I loathe because it hurts my back. I have been putting it off all summer but realised I must just get on and do it.

Daisy was already out there.

She had brought some big bin bags with her so I took one and found a patch and went to work.

We each filled a bag when it started to drizzle.  So we decided to fill one more between us and then call it a day.  There is absolutely nothing less fun than ragworting in drizzle.

Between us, we filled our three bags.

I had brought the Eggbox over so we didn’t have to lug the full bags (to take to the tip later) and I let Daisy drive it home – her first time off-roading with the diff (open differential) on.  I think she enjoyed it.  I love off-roading and that is the Eggbox’s one great talent.

I will probably go back to the field and do some more ragworting another day.  Don’t tell me about the ragwort forks because I don’t get on with them.  God, I hate pulling ragwort. It’s such an evil tenacious plant with no value in my life at all.