I received a lovely message the other day:

   Haynet Admin

I went over to Sandness this morning where the old girls are.  Vitamin (or Minnie as she likes to be known) is keeping Raw Deal (or Delia as she likes to be known) company.

They are both old ladies and are enjoying a pampered winter lifestyle for probably the first time.

Delia used to be known in her youth as The Rhinossopig due to her portly appearance.  I think, but it could just be her bouffant winter coat, that she has put on weight and is beginning to fill out again.

Delia was pleased to see me and ambled slowly up and we exchanged pleasantries while passing the time of day.

Delia is a dignified 22 year old lady who has seen it all.  She has had six foals (some serious show winners too), and was the Royal Highland Show Champion in 1996.

Minnie was on fine form and enjoying her new life of luxury (stables when it is cold, unlimited silage, hard feed, though Delia gets the rug.)

She was looking very well on it.

Such a beautiful pony.  There is something about her that only comes out in photographs.

While I was busy taking pics of the grande dames, Jo was jet-washing the “Bazzer Whazzer” as it is fondly known.

This is my original 1906 spindle back gig beautifully restored by Barry Wheelwright.  Apparently it was found at Packwood House.

Seeing it again has inspired me.  We need to get out again and use it.

These two fatties are going on the diet of all diets and once we can fit one of them between the shafts, we will enter some driving classes south.

We woz posh once, yer know!

To those of you who are spreading utter shite about me and my ponies.

Here are the Minions.  These are the three Shetland ponies I was asked to rescue on behalf of a third party who had been asked by the SSPCA.

I never intended to keep them, but wanted to get them well enough to be returned to their original breeders.

I duly phoned round the breeders and was asked by Storm’s if I could keep him.  I was happy to.

I then asked Waffle’s breeder, who is a close personal friend, if I could buy Waffle off him to keep Storm company.  Waffle was given to me.

For Silver, it was intended that he was returned to his breeder but at the end of the day, it was very obvious that the three ponies were very close.  I asked Silver’s breeder much later on if I could keep him and was told, if he was happy at Thordale, then that was fine.

So, have you got that clear in your tiny mind(s)?

At no point have any of The Minions been sold.  No, they are not down south and no, guess what, I have not made thousands of pounds by having them.  My Paypal account was not “on display” for all to see so that I could scrounge money out of folk.

If you want to go spreading shitery about me, then at least get your facts straight and stop accosting complete strangers in Shetland to tell them just how much you hate me for rescuing three starving Shetland ponies (the fourth one went back to his breeder).

This is the letter written by the vet on Day 2 after their arrival.

As you can see, the vet confirms their condition and that they would not survive in a hill park.

So, if you want to continue with this defamation and slander, I will bring in the big guns and see you in Court.

**** End of Rant *****

I have lost my mobile phone.

I can’t remember when I last saw it (they don’t really work here so it is not as though it is surgically attached to me like you folk south).  I had reached the point when I was turning everywhere upside-down.   Today, it was the feed shed’s turn.

I had help.  Muchos help.

While I was looking, I decided to chuck all the buckets outside to give the “helpers” something else to do rather than clamber inside my shed offering assistance. There is not much room with me, them and the feed bins.

Taktur and The Minions were intrigued by my endeavours.

BeAnne, of course, was the school playground monitor.  As always, she appointed herself.

I didn’t find my phone. So I am still looking and trying to backtrack.

By the way, if you are wondering how big The Minions are, here are some comparison photos with a normal sized cockerel.

So basically, the rule of thumb is two cockerels equals one Minion.

Maybe two and a bit, depending on who you are!

By the way, has anyone seen my phone?

The Minions have many names as a group – The Ickle Pickles, The Evil Weevils, The Webbies, Oi You 3, Tribblets, to name but a few.

I brought the Minions, who were Webbies by then (webbed feet from all the rain), into their shed and paddock last night, thinking they had probably had enough of being soaked.  They were very grateful and by the state of their shed this morning, I think they stayed there all night having a party.

Today promised to be dry so I took off Storm’s third rug (aka The Bat) and left them all around the outside of the house so I could rush out with another rug in case it rained and Storm melted. One hint of a drop and I am out there whippet-like, clutching a headcollar to drag him into the shed and get him dressed again. Storm has grown accustomed to my madness and just stands there with the look of one who has to wear school uniform.  The others, to be fair, have given up pointing and laughing.

Lots of playing today.  It was lovely to see.

(loving the teefs …..

….. and the little skippetty hoofs)

Silver has really come into himself.  He is a complicated lad but inside there is a heart of gold.  He just doesn’t believe a human wants to talk or give him anything nice whereas the others know me and my pockets well.  But he sidles up when I least expect it and is quietly cuddly.  He moves beautifully too (that would be the imaginary part Arabian coming to the fore – طبق فضي للمائدة).

They still love their toys, though and, despite pretending to be all grown up like the big ones, they remain my bebbies.

❤ ❤ My silly-billy bebbies ❤ ❤