Our trusted equine dentist, Stuart Huggan, came to Thordale today.

There was immense relief all round as we had to cancel our previous appointment in June due to having to get on the boat a day early to go down to the Icelandic Horse British Championships.

It was not something I wanted to do but our hand was forced by an appalling weather forecast and the threat of the boat not going.  Upon our return, I then nagged and prayed that Stuart would return.

And he did.  Big phew!

Since cancelling, Daisy and I have watched the horses’ behaviour for evidence of tooth problems and every headshake and evasive behaviour has been put down to our negligence!

We had Taktur, Kappi, Klaengur, Haakon and Iacs looked at first and then we wheeled in the two old ladies.

I have been very worried about Vitamin who is beginning to look “pouchy”.

Stuart worked his magic and did his stuff.  Everyone behaved which is always good.

Lambie insisted on watching.

It’s his thing. He loves to observe.

And charm. Lambie definitely did that.

So I am hugely relieved the dentist has been.  Every horse who needs it has had their teeth sorted and we will go into the winter with the best sets of gnashers possible.

 

 

I am home and straight back into my life.

First batch of washing on, a gallon of soup made out of all the leftover veg I found in the fridge (nothing escapes – we try to be a zero food waste household), and I popped over to bring the two old ladies, Fivla and Vitamin, home.  The equine dentist is coming tomorrow morning.

The ladies were thrilled to be back and shouted when they saw Haakon.

I had brought him down for a ride.  Just him and me.

And BeAnne – who suddenly decided to come too.  She usually doesn’t come anymore so I was thrilled to have her companionship.

I shouted at the Boyzens who were having a day away on the hill and they came running down but didn’t get any further so I left them to it.

BeAnne, Haakon and I set out on our lovely Shetland autumn ride.

For me this is the best view in my world.  in my opinion it really doesn’t get any better than this.  It is all I want.

 

The Boyzens were patiently waiting for us upon our return.

Haakon went back to his field and we all went to visit the Shetland mares.

It has been a long time since the ladies have been home and it is lovely to see them in the field. I have missed them.

Of course Monster had to come too.

Fivla was intrigued (this is her intrigued face!)

Vitamin was more interested at trying to get the boys’ attention – the hussy.

My two dear old ladies.  They were so easy today, climbing into the horsebox and loading themselves.

As the afternoon slowly drew in, I sat outside with Lambie, BeAnne and Monster.

Someone’s going to sleep well tonight.

Home is everything.  All I need.

And here I am at the Edinburgh gate, Terminal 5 at Heathrow.

The flight is full and starting to board according to bank account size!

The Edinburgh flight landed fine, vaguely only time and happily into good old Scottish drizzle.  I have just completed my ten mile hike away from the thriving shops, restaurants and bars of the airport to the far reaches of an outer galactic quadrant that is the home of Gates 26, 27 and 28.

Apparently the Shetland flight is leaving from the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory with a sign on the door saying “Beware of the Leopard”. (D. Adams)

It is no better at Aberdeen airport.  Shetland is considered the poor relation.  An embarrassing destination, really.  One we don’t or shouldn’t talk about.

And I’m home!

Total phew.  The sunset as Daisy drove me home was spectacular.  Everyone was pleased to see me, including BeAnne, Monster and the sheeple.  The house was clean and OH had cut his hair.

Night, night. xx

 

 

And so to Wokingham, our local market town, for some messages.

Wokingham means ‘Wocca’s people’s home’. Wocca was apparently a Saxon chieftain who may also have owned lands at Wokefield in Berkshire and Woking in Surrey (thank you Wikipedia).

Wokingham was named one of the top places for families to live in England, apparently, in a survey, once.

With a long history, Wokingham was raided by both sides in the Civil War but was most famous for its bull-baiting in the 17th century.  It was prohibited 200 years later, thankfully.

From my childhood, I mostly remember the Victorian town hall, the market, and traipsing endlessly around the shops with my mother.

The town now seems smaller than I remember but I like the old buildings, the architecture and the small independent shops struggling to stay alive. They too live with the constant threat of the big shops out of town luring their customers away.

We went to a superb local family run business in Wokingham town centre specialising in wool, fabric and haberdashery.

Well, you can imagine the fun we had getting ideas and looking for stuff for my films.

Tomorrow, I travel home to Shetland.

 

 

 

Today the rain has cleared and we are back with the beautiful Autumn days again so Mum and I went to have coffee with an old friend.

She lives at Swallowfield Park.

Built in 1689, and designed by architect William Talman, a student of Sir Christopher Wren, Swallowfield Park is the classic example of an English stately home.

We had a lovely time being shown around.  This is the front hall.

The horse statues are bronze replicas of the Chevaux de Marly by Guillaume Coustou the Elder in Paris.

We were shown a very well stocked and comfortable library.

There was even an “invisible” door.  Very Harry Potter!

The sitting room was perfect, complete with a good grand piano and ancestors.

These fire “dogs” are actually dragons and allegedly originally from Brighton Pavilion.  This may be myth rather than actual fact.

They are very special (and highly coveted by me, and my mother!)

The original front doorway was moved many years ago.

The view outside was complete with a pretty water feature.

Then along to the Servants’ Quarters.

Outside to a stunning brickwork stableblock.

The octagonal dovecote is from the mid-18^th century.

The gardens are carefully landscaped and were laid out around the house within the estate.

We walked along to the walled gardens complete with fruit trees.

Swallowfield Park is a beautiful house set in the quintessential English countryside.

A perfect Sunday morning.