All hail and worship, please. OH came home last night after working away from home for a few days.  He was welcomed back with open paws.  It was very sweet.

And Pepper is a funny little dog.  Last night, I went to bed to lie on my acupressure mat for a few hours. I was trawling the internet looking for some nice flute duet music.  I was listening to samples as MIDI files (computer version of music – not pretty but gives you the gist) when Pepper jumped on the bed to sat and listen.  She was very interested in the noise.

Breakfast remains an audience participating sport.

Yesterday…..

Today…..

They are both shameful, or is it shameless?

“Shameless means that you feel no shame. Shameful means that you should be ashamed for a way you have acted.“

So possibly both, then!

Poor Floss – her breakfast is not her own.

I don’t eat breakfast so I am not bothered by this.

It rains a lot at the moment.  I dither about rugging and not rugging as the horses have good winter coats and are waterproof.

I only rug Haakon (28 years old and can get thin in winter) and Taktur (stallion who burns off energy) when I am sucking my teeth and watching every weather forecast. Freezing rain is my main rugging reason but, having said that, the horses are always so much happier when I don’t rug them and so, of course, I worry instead.   They move around more without rugs.  Haakon just stops with a rug on, and that is never good.

Anyway, while I was feeding Taktur his breakfast, I had a good look at the pattern of his coat.

It was actually very interesting.  Icelandic horses (and Shetland ponies) have very thick winter coats designed for just this weather.  They never actually get wet through to the skin.  The coat has a fluffy under-coat and then longer hair on top.  It clumps together to let the water run off.

Under the “points” the coat it is completely dry.

The natural grease in the coat also helps with this process and that is the main reason I don’t wash horses.

The mane is also incredibly thick and it is very warm and dry underneath – sometimes, on very cold days, I put my hands under a horse’s mane to warm them up.

Yesterday, the horsevan died completely and we tried – we really tried to get it going – changed the battery, used jump leads, kicked the tyres …..

Even asked a friend….

But the van defeated us all.  The sheep watched on and offered their services (“Oi, Harrel, get off the electric cable and/or out of my handbag!”)

So the van was winched onto a low loader and towed off to the garage.

Feeling slightly worried about the van, it was nice to be followed everywhere by my devoted little Fan Club.

I tell myself it is not for the biccies that live behind the door in the porch in a special box for sheep.  Oh no.

They want to tell me just how much they love and appreciate me – and probably my ability to give them biccies!