Daisy and I “did feet” the other day – Albie and Vitamin were on that day’s list.  The others all hung around and watched, unhelpfully twanging the fence (thank you Newt), which infuriates me.

Daisy and I made a tidy job of the hooves and, after carrot distribution, I sent the herd away to get them away from my poor fence.  Loitering only causes mud and more mud.  They don’t need to stand in the same spot all day.

Waffle stopped, turn back and stared at me in disbelief – that I would actually want him to leave my side.

The wind was blowing hard now and I insisted they left.  In a silly-bill mood, they bounced off like little Shetland pony Tiggers!

And then there was Tiddles. You can see him thinking about this.

I called his name and he turned back to look at me as if to say, why wouldn’t you want a Tiddles with you at all times?

Sorry, Tiddles, no.  Run wild, run free – or in other words “go away and leave my poor fences alone!”

Après Minions, I go and check that my two (older) ladies, Hetja and Brá, are happy and healthy.  They live about 5 miles away.

Their field is enormous and Brá is, as ever, about as unhelpful as she can be.

Hetja is always on stand-by waiting for carrots.

But Brá needs her fair share too so I climbed up the hill (which was like a cliff-face and I am not good with heights) for her.

The old bat wouldn’t come to me when I asked her to.

Oh no, because I am only trying to feed her daily carrot.

Being the nice person that I am.

And therefore being totally ignored, but always being watched….

So I clambered up the steep hill, almost on my hands and knees….

And delivered the carrot.

Which she kindly ate.  Oh, well done.

And the second one because Hetja had two.

And then, knowing the ladies both absolutely fine, I scrambled down hill and drove home.

(trying very hard not to think about just how ungrateful Brá is (or how fat!)

This time of year especially, the Boyzens have a-hankering to go and mingle in the hill.  The rams are out and I think my lot want to hang out with the men.  So, at any opportunity, they escape and probably go to the Pub.

Luckily the Girlzens are very happy to stay at home, never leave and eat their hay-nets because they know there is no breakfast or snack biccies in the hill.  There is NOTHING! Nobody cares about you in the hill.

When I came home, after checking everyone outwith my croft, I found the three Boyzsens waiting for my return so they could come back home.  They looked a bit sheepish (sorry not)!

I called – they came running.

This is Lambie muttering to himself.

‘Ster had a good jump on him.  Very like a Victorian hunting print!

While ‘Bert diligently did the bare minimum to get over the ditch – I have horses not dissimilar.

Meanwhile, Lambie gave it his all – his little stripey leggies were a blur.  Such a star.  Today the ditch, tomorrow Horse (Sheep) of the Year Show!

I can hear it now – “and that’s a clear round for Lambie; what a little woolly jumper!” (see what I did there, geddit?)

I’ll get my coat.

In today’s Show and Tell, I have brought a swan!

It was all by his (or her)-self in the Stanevatstoe Loch (yes, I had to look that one up!).

A thorough internet search says, I think (and I am quite prepared to be corrected), that this is a Whooper Swan rather than the Bewick’s Swan.

Whooper swans are bigger than their nearly identical counterpart, the Bewick, and they have a good honk on them too. They are visitors from Iceland and are a protected species.  Many years ago, while I was driving the girls to school along this very road, a pair of swans flew alongside the car. It was a magical moment.  We all remember it.

This swan was very peaceful, mooching about, looking for food, I think.

There was a lot of this!

There is something, like hares, about swans. I could watch them all day too.

As they have a bit of a reputation with the breaking-a-man’s-arm thing, which does scare me, I would not even try to get close up.

Thankfully I have a good long lens and the car made a perfect hide.

And just to prove that I have horses, here is Dreki….

His Dad, Taktur (looking a bit tufty)….

And Efstur looking a bit, well just a bit really!

A good day.

Every day I drive over to see Brá and Hetja (my 2 retired Icelandic mares). It’s a nice drive.  One that I am very used to so no hardship.

Recently, I have spied this little chap sitting quietly a little away from the road.  Most days, he’s there.  Easy to spot.

I drove past and I thought today I would have a go at getting closer.

Mountain Hares are timid beasts – Lepus timidus – it seems a very apt name.

I left the car out of sight, and taking my camera, decided to clamber as quietly as I could around and over the peat-hags.  Every foot step sounded like giants arriving.

I got closer and closer and still he sat.

I was lying on the peat hag by now ….. (this is the closest I have ever been)

…. and he knew I was there.

My luck ran out after I had taken some photos (more luck than judgement) and off he went to sit and think about who or what he had seen.

Nope, he was having none of this.  He was off.

I watched him go wishing he had stayed longer but admiring his wonderful speed and agility.

And that was the last I saw of him today.  I hope he will be there tomorrow. I wonder if I could tame him. I wonder if he would be my friend……… I could love him and hug him and call him George or Georgina if he is a she – I don’t know.