The walking continues.  Endlessly I trudge up and down the road with or without a companion.

The other day, Flossie kindly brough me Haakon and so off we went together.

I have been riding Haakon for over 20 years but now we just walk together with occasional snack stops, which for some reason really irritate me.  Sometimes I make a huge fuss and Haakon looks suitably contrite (or sulks) and then I think what does it matter and let him drag me off to the side of the road and eat.  Haakon is old. We know each other very well and I know it is wrong to let him eat in-hand but Haakon knows it is wrong.  I think that if this small thing makes him happy, then who cares.  If this is the worst thing Haakon does, well, I still love him even with his bad manners.

After my walk, I popped Haakon back in the slimming field where Kappi and Klaengur live during the day.  They are prone to being fat so live here during the daylight hours.

When Kappi arrived from Norway a few years back, Haakon immediately hated him.  They would vie for the position of head of the herd, picking fights and shooting each other filthy looks.  It has taken a while but the boys have settled down now and are good friends.

Haakon still thinks he is the boss, though.

So back to the walking.  More walking.  It’s all I do these days.

I went to see Handsome Prince Taktur who is now coming to the end of his sojourn with his Lady-Girls.  They live in the field over the hill away from the male herd.

This summer Hetja and Brá haven’t been that nice to Taktur, ganging up on him and telling him they have a headache, that has mysteriously lasted for six weeks.

I think Taktur will be very pleased to go back to his homies, his bros.  He has missed their friendship and probably someone to talk to.

It has been good for Taktur, though.  I think of this time of year as an education that is essential for his development as a stallion.  He learns his manners and how to speak nicely to his wimmin.

Hetja is very tough with Taktur.  It is definitely her way or the highway (read swift kick in the bollox!)

No one messes with Hetja.

Isn’t she looking lovely?

Brá, on the other hoof, just does everything Hetja tells her to do.

So there is always a united front when it comes to this endless headache scenario.

Brá is also looking very good and I am pleased she has finally put her weight back on after the long winter with Dreki taking everything.

So next week, sometime, we will move the girls over to Sandness until winter.  They will be in a field away from the Minions and probably Lilja too.

Taktur will go back to join his friends and be introduced to Dreki, who he has never met.  That will be interesting – father and son together.

Nowadays wherever we go, no matter when, we are always followed.

The horses love us going into their field so they can come up for a chat.

Hjalti, without fail, is always first up to say hello.  He is the living image of his Mum, Hetja.

And then the others turn up too and quickly see the lurking Monster Cat who is doing his very best to be invisible and just fit in.

I feel sorry for Monster Cat.  It is his one wish to have better camouflage.  His brilliant white colour makes him stick out like a sore thumb.

I am very tempted to buy Monster this outfit I found on t’net in the hope it would solve some of his problems.

However, I doubt the outfit would be useful because Monster does also announce his arrival very loudly so everyone knows he is around.  He is a very talkative cat.

Dreki is looking good – growing up fast, like his half-sister, Lilja.  I am very pleased with both of last year’s foals.

Now I am finding it difficult to go into the field as I seem to have also lost my balance with this ruddy left foot so probably from henceforth all photos will be taken from the sidelines.  I also doubt I can lug my big camera anywhere much. I am too scared I will trip and drop it so you will have to make do with the lesser photos like these – sorry.

I have come to know the little fan club of birds that live around our croft.  They follow the person who feeds the hens – it is totally cupboard love.

The other afternoon I noticed there was someone outside shouting loudly so I went out with my camera to see who it was.

Hopping about the place was a wren.

Well, I think it is a wren – please correct me if I am wrong and I will amend this whole blog.

Here in Shetland, we have our own species of wren – Troglodytes troglodytes zetlandicus.

The call was not the usual beautiful trilling wren birdsong.

Oh no. It was more like being shouted at or similar to the rapid fire of a machine gun.

And this little wren, for one so small, is loud, very loud.  I can hear him (I shall henceforth assume he is a he for not reason except I will be 50% correct!) when I sit at my desk inside the house.

Monster Cat is not about (he is busy asleep) and there are no other predators about so I am not sure what the wren is shouting about.

He shouts while everyone who would eat him is indoors.

But shout he does.  Endlessly.  To no one about nothing.

The wren is very tame too and certainly not running away from the noise of my camera or the sight of me trying to creep around the garden looking inconspicuous.

Bloody noisy little bird, though.

I hear him most days.  I wonder what he is shouting about.

I was on my usual walk when I spied some signs saying they were filming the tv series “Shetland” in my area.

So I thought I would walk on and see where they were filming.

There were lorries and lighting equipment surrounding an empty large house at Watsness about 2 miles down the road from where we live.

Watsness is a fabulous location.  There is a beautiful view over the Shetland coastline to the island of Foula that lies 20 miles to the west in the Atlantic Ocean.

(I took this beautiful photo on one of my many walks, but not today)

But it looked like this today.

I turned around and walked home meeting my neighbour.  We both said to each other “There’s been a murder” in our best TV-Scottish accents and laughed.  According to the TV series “Shetland”, we live in a hotbed of murder and mystery.  Real life seems sadly disappointing.

Later Daisy drove us to our vegetable packing job and en route, I mentioned I wanted to go to Watsness with my better camera to take some photos for the blog.  The sea fog – haar – was coming and going.  I expect that will play havoc with continuity.

I guess we will now have to watch “Shetland” to see where we live on the telly!