Track Life

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Not much happening today.

Just the usual – Monster decided he wanted to rule the world so he sat on Donald Trump.

I am considering selling some of the Muscovy ducks.  We just have so many (mostly boys) and all the girls are wandering around looking for places to nest so there are bound to be more.

I shall be sad to see them go but needs must. I never wanted a large flock.

The Shetland ponies are all doing well.  Track life seems to have been an easy change for them and it suits them. They run up and down from one end to the other, galloping up the hills, giggling and having lots of fun.  I think it also helps that the weather has been quite nice recently.

Of course, I gave in and they now get hay in the evening out of the very-difficult-to-eat haynets (doubles, ie two together with tiny holes) and this a) slows them down and b) gives the grass a bit of a chance to grow.  I don’t see anyone getting fat on this regime but I worry about stomach ulcers, and am trying to keep the intake trickling in.

Anyway, the ponies are getting lots of exercise on the track, which is ideal.  However the constant poo-picking is very boring except I am currently listening to LOTR (onto the 3rd book now), so feel like a miserable put-upon hobbit while I traipse around the track.

A Wander Around

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There were some very noticeable signs of spring when I went for my wander around with the dogs this morning.

The green leaves by the burn (stream) will soon turn into yellow flag irises, which grow wild all over Shetland – they are known locally as “seggies”.

Disappointingly, it’s not our best wall of primroses this year.  Maybe, as the warm weather gets going, they might make a better effort.  There are usually many more and look like scrambled egg.

Still, the celandine are appearing in force now. A sure sign the weather is warming up and winter is well and truly over (I may regret saying that).

As it is nearly Lambie’s 11th birthday (25th April, thank you for asking – obviously he will be having a big party, so please bring cake or chocolate and absolutely no veggies), I went to see how he was doing.

Aww, my little boy will be 11 years old.  Who’da thunk it?  Lambie’s main aim from Day 1 has always been to die…… at me.  Anyway, I asked him for a pre-birthday smile and this is what I got and then he followed me around, trying to stand next to me at all times, while I tried to photograph the others.  I think he knows it is nearly birthday time so he’s hedging all his bets and sucking up.

Lambie is not a natural charmer, like Gus-Gus.

Or Maggie, who is an optimist about everything (I have no idea why she looks like she’s swallowed a button!)

Even ‘Ster found his inner cheesey grin.

I also found these three in the far reaches of the sheep field.  It was funny to think that this time last year, they didn’t even exist (well, mum-duck did, obviously).  So I told them this and was duly ignored for my efforts.

They go Lickety-Split!

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A little known fact, but when my mother was pregnant with me, she read a children’s book called “Susannah of the Mounties” by Muriel Denison.  This book was first published in 1936 and funnily enough, my Great Great Aunt Kate was also reading it in 1950.

Anyway, my middle name is Susannah because of this book and, of course, I have the family copy. The film was not what I imagined, though.

So, when the Shetland ponies trotted and cantered past me on my poo-picking walk this afternoon, the word that instantly came to mind was “lickety-split” – the first time I had ever heard it used was in “Susannah of the Mounties”.

I was being followed on my poo-picking rounds.

And then one by one, with Silver first, each pony went past lickety-split.

(though Newt threw in a little canter as well – he would)

Tiddles went lickety-split ….. (because he is a good boy)

And Albie…..

Then lastly Waffle.

And then Waffle and Albie had a bit of a tussle….. because they are typical little boys who cannot just trot down a corridor without pushing and shoving each other.

Anyway, it is funny where my memory can take me when I am walking around a track with rubber gloves and bucket.  I never read the book sequels, though.  I wonder if I should (edited to say, I just looked it up and there are three!  Who knew?)

Celery Time!

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All I have to do is shout “celery” and there is a rumble of little hooves and everyone arrives….

(please sing Rossini’s William Tell Overture – the fast bit – ba da dum ba da dum ba da dum dum dum – while you’re watching this small film)

I had spent my morning volunteering at Transition Turriefield, weighing and packing vegetables.

So today was the ponies’ lucky day – it was celery top time, from all the trimmed celery plants which were off to the shops.  Celery is a huge favourite and they happily shovel it down.

Now the ponies are all living on the track again for the forseeable, I have to poo-pick to keep it clean which helps the grazing for the ponies.

Poo-picking is a twice-daily task and I am praying my back will hold up (I now wear a brace for this arduous chore, which I think is helping).  This afternoon, while they were scoffing, I walked around their paddock with gloves and bucket and, by the time I returned, all, and I mean all as in not one leaf of evidence was left. Everything had entirely vanished.

Every last leaf and stalk.You never would’ve known there had been a full bag of celery leaves and stalks a few minutes ago.

I am still holding off on the hay front.  There are little grass shoots everywhere.

On Track Now

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I wasn’t going to move the Shetland ponies yet until I received a text yesterday evening from a friend saying that one of her ponies had come in “a bit footy”.

Footiness means their hooves are tender and it is often the first sign of laminitis from newly arriving spring grass.  I didn’t need telling twice.

The ponies had to be moved.

So after their breakfast, I called them all up.

And they were such good boys, leaving their field without question or argument or even a headcollar.

The boys immediately went off to investigate their old paddock and I had opened up their containers too.

OH and I set up the electric fence energisers (one for each side) and I let the ponies out to go down to their track, where they will now stay until winter.

There’s not much grass on the track but there seems to be enough at the moment.  This time of year what is growing is “rocket fuel” and I just can’t take the risk.

The fields have greened up over night, literally (or is that figuratively?)

And everyone has done very well over winter, so if they lost weight, I wouldn’t be too upset.  If they need it, I will also supplement with hay, but I widened the track (to avoid a muddy corner) and they’re not interested in eating this new grass, which I will take as proof that they don’t actually need hay at the moment.

I wish I could make the boys understand that this is for their own good and rocket fuel is always dangerous to fat little ponies.