Nothing is ever written in stone.

I spend many hours thinking about what is best for my animals’ welfare and worry about them being too thin or too fat but rarely just right!

I tend to think aloud and discuss my plans with Daisy.  Her horse knowledge is good and science-based so she is the perfect person to bounce ideas off.

Yesterday, I looked carefully at the Shetlands at Leradale to see if they were surviving this winter without extra food.  They tend to stay in one spot of their huge field – fer cryin’ out loud.

I will admit that, as well as being worried about Delia (I am always worrying about Delia), Tiddles was on my list too – if I poked I could feel his spine.

Daisy had a prod and agreed but she could also feel a good fat layer.

So I stopped worrying about Tiddles.

He is fine.

I love these two photos!

So we decided that, as the ponies are not moving much around this field, we will take a headcollar and herd them all up to the grass so they get used to looking for food rather than staying in the same place.

I think it is partially the lure of their neighbours.

So I led Delia and Daisy moved the stragglers on to keep up.

You can see there is plenty of grass – they just have to cross a small stream to find it.

It is not difficult.

So we will do this for a week and see if this helps Delia maintain her weight (as well as hard feed).  Failing that, we will put Plan B into action – ie move Delia and if the others want to stand and starve, well, they will have to do that by themselves.

That will be their choice.

The weather – it comes, it goes and it looms.

After coming back from Leradale, having fed Delia, I was followed out to the fields around the house.  I am followed a lot these days!

Daisy and I have been thinking these past few days about putting a rug on Efstur, who is going through his leggy fugly yearling stage.  We are now feeding the stallions – Taktur and Efstur – who burn up more energy than geldings.

In our rug library, we only have Icelandic or Shetland sized.  Nothing in between.

So we squished Efstur into Delia’s rainsheet.

Taktur already has a lovely set of rugs.

I am not a huge fan of rugging but I think it might help Efstur keep the weight on.

I am well aware that the rug is perhaps not a perfect fit.

But there is method in my madness.  Oh yes.  I have clocked all the previous owner’s rips and and tears.  If I find this rug in ribbons tomorrow, I will know that it will be a false economy to buy Efstur a proper Big-Boy rug.  They are not cheap.  I also need to measure him properly too.

Some are known to be rug-rippers.

Not wanting to mention any names here but there are some that point and laugh.

Meanwhile, when I got back indoors, I was greeted with this lovely scene from my window.  Lambie in the silage trough.  Apparently he turned round in it and fell out when it rocked!

Delia was patiently waiting for us.

While I fed her, Flossie went and gave the Icelandics their carrot share.   Dreki has learned about carrots now and happily eats them like he is doing you a favour.

The others know not to bother Delia so they bother me instead!

I don’t mind being hassled.

 

I did a quick count and couldn’t see Storm so I shouted.

Of course he turned up!

And demanded.  Someone is obviously enjoying the lick bucket!

Once Delia had finished, Floss and I moved the herd over to the other side where the long green grass is.

I don’t know why they don’t go over there.  Most of them were very happy to follow me and Delia.

Once we were the other side, I loosed Delia who rushed off to the top without a rest.

She is doing very well.

I looked back and realised two Minions were missing. That would be Storm and Silver who had stayed behind to lick out Delia’s bucket.  Flossie was behind them trying to chivvy them onwards.

Storm got the plot but Silver wouldn’t jump the stream.

So I went back, put Silver on a headcollar and led him the safe way.  He galloped off to join the others.

I don’t understand why they want to mooch around where there is little grass when they have a field full if they just go and look.

A friend told me a few weeks back about a community choir that was starting in my village.

I have always enjoyed singing since being in the school choir to now humming in an irritating fashion all day!

So, I went along to their first practice and joined up.

We started with carols and it quickly became very evident that, having the short term memory of a gold-fish, I could not learn the alto part.  I would hear it, sing it back and then promptly forget it.  Depressing.

So I volunteered to play the flute instead as an accompniment which worked out much better for me as I was given the music score to play from.

Our debut was last night in our local village hall.  We sang some carols in the intermission for the Lerwick Brass Band concert.

It was a lovely evening with lots of excellent corny Christmas cracker jokes.  Apparently this is a local tradition.

We warmed up singing carols with the Brass Band.  They also performed their own pieces too.  I love brass band music.  I wish they allowed flutes in but they don’t.

And then we sang our carols.  I am at the back on the left behind the pianist.

I loved it.  There was a huge sense of community spirit.  It was a treacherous icey night but folk came and sang and listened. I arrived in welly boots and Yaktraks!

We have one more performance on Sunday at our local church and then hopefully the community choir will continue throughout the year.

Photos by Barry Broadbent

My little Boyzenberries, aka my small Shetland sheep flock are flourishing.  Four sheep count as a flock.

Puzzah is determined to be one of the boys and, even when Lambie and ‘Bert crawled under a fence, ‘Ster kindly stayed with Puzzah.  Puzzah’s head and its accoutrements mean he can’t resort to devious escaping like the others.

So I am very pleased they are a happy settled little bunch.  I can’t really imagine life without Puzzah now.  He has fitted in very well.

A reminder of the Smile of Winningness!

OH went into town yesterday to get supplies.  We were down to our last carrot so Lambie let himself in the house.

He thought the Christmas tree was fascinating, if wrong (an inedible tree?  Why, just why) and attempted to make off with a branch or two.

However, he did succeed in filching a Tesco plastic glittery star and eating the corner off it as quickly as he could before Daisy took it away.

After that, it was supervision at all times as Lambie could obviously not be trusted.

He was intrigued and spent much of his time just looking and sniffing.

Making the most of OH’s absence, Lambie also had a sit down.

He very much enjoyed listening to the classical music…..

…. like you do if you are a sheep with exemplary style.

Wu came in to suck up to us because it was also near his tea time.

He thought Lambie was an acquired taste (or smell).

We had a magical Christmassy afternoon listening to carols and watching Lambie eat the Christmas tree.