Author Archives: Frances

Different From My Usual Day

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This morning, after chores, we jump-started the Eggbox (Suzuki Jimny and my friend and I went to Lerwick to see a film – The Sheep Detectives.

I have been curious about this film and was assured by a friend who had already seen it that no one apart from the protagonist dies.  This is not true and my friend and I sobbed our way through the film but, even so, it was a very good film and I am sure I saw all my sheep within the cast of sheepie characters.  All I can say is someone really understands sheep.

Home mid-morning and I went into my shed with the dogs to finish off a sheep that has been in the making a few days.  White ones seem to be selling well at the moment, so I am trying to make more.

Then I poo-picked the track, saying hello to the Shetland ponies as I whisked past with bucket and gloves.  Afterwards, feeling benevolent and assuring myself that, if I were murdered, they would instantly be on the case, I went out with a couple of shortbread biccies for ‘Ster and Dahlia – the only two around.

This morning I had been worried about ‘Ster as he refused to eat anything after I drenched him with his Ammonium Chloride but he came running up and ate his piece of shortbread.  I also noticed in the film that one of the sheep farmers lured a sheep out of the house with the biscuit tin!  Like I said, someone knows sheep.

‘Ster seems fine now. I think he just hated the taste of the drench, which is disgusting, I will admit.

Anyway I believe Dahlia would find the perpetrator on my behalf if I am murdered.

Just possibly not with her friend ‘Ster who can be a bit of a flake.

Gosh, They Were Fat!

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This is going to be one of those even more boring blog posts because I am exhausted and lying on my bed trying to gather up some energy for the next thing.

All is well in the land-of-nothing-to-eat.  Apart from a bucket of breakfast, the Shetland ponies only get a bit of hay in the evening and yet seem to be surviving.

I find it hard not to feed them all chocolate cake 24/7 but that little voice in my head says we are not going back to fat ponies.  No, not never, ever again.  I found some old photos of the herd the other day and thought to myself, wow, they were enormous!

Seeing those photos from 2022, I feel ashamed that I let them get like that.  It was a slippery slope.  I had forgotten just how bad they were.

Meanwhile, in the land of vans, OH got the pressure washer out to give my horse-van a quick once over as it is hopefully now sold and then started on his van too.  I tried to put the Suzuki “Eggbox” in the to-be-cleaned queue but it wouldn’t start.  I am beginning to hate all machinery now.

So that’s me – currently summoning up some strength to go and cremate supper (no, never the duck, but it’s a nice pic).

Them’s the Breaks

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I’m not really how sure to describe my day.  Mostly waiting. The weather’s not been great (cold, occasionally wet and very, very windy) and I’ve been expecting to hear about the horsevan’s fate too.

I wasn’t brave enough to phone the garage so I procrastinated beautifully by doing other things instead to keep myself busy.

I didn’t want to hear the inevitable.

So, I picked some rhubarb out of the garden and made a rhubarb and ginger cake, which is not bad, even for me – cakes are not really my thing but I was trying to use up eggs, of which we have loads.

Then I pickled some duck eggs – the ducks are in full laying mode at the moment – and tried one from my previous batch – not bad, if I don’t say so myself.  I am very partial to a pickled egg.

Then with some more eggs, I made a quiche, which we ate for lunch. Again, I’ve eaten worse!  We are now down to only 6 eggs and that is quite an achievement.

Then into my shed to make another hand-felted Shetland sheep while trying very hard not to think about the van.

After that, I went poo-picking in the continuing “moderate gale from the north”, which is becoming increasingly irksome to all.

And then I finally phoned the garage.  Unsurprisingly, the van had failed, and deemed unfit to go again.  Dammit.  A little part of me was surprised since it had driven into town very easily but the other part of me was not surprised since it is over 14 years old and was rather “pasta la besta”.  Ho hum, them’s the breaks.

Sheds and Hostages

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To town this morning – physio assessment for me and the annual horse-van service/MOT which I am confident it will fail. When OH and I got home, we were given a huge welcome by everyone.  This is Monster’s feed-me face.  He was two hours early for his tea but optimistic.

After poo-picking the track in a Force 9 – moderate gale – which can only be described as difficult, I had a quick glance at the weather forecast and decided to lug out the carefully put-away rainsheet rugs for the elderly.

As it was so windy, I thought the easiest method would be to open up the little shed and put the rugs on one at a time in there.  No wind = no flapping about.

I successfully did the big ones and thought I would leave it at that but Fivla and Vitamin turned up and looked hopeful.

So I put rugs on them too but just thin ones to act as windcheaters more than anything else.

Iacs quickly made the shed his home.  There is room for others but that can be a tight squeeze.

I decided not to rug up Tiddles. He has the container for shelter. But I also noticed a miserable brown little pony held captive.

Tiddles had stolen the haynet Newt had been eating, blocking him in.

So, being the nice person that I am, I went and got Newt his own haynet.

And I asked Tiddles to try and be a bit nicer to Newt.  He said that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

So those were my good deeds for the day and can we all pray that horse-van gets through its MOT/service relatively cheaply and eventually passes without me having to sell a kidney or my first born.  I am not holding my breath.

Newt (sigh)

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Over the years, Newt has not endeared himself to anyone in his herd and he only has himself to blame.  He can be very mean spirited, especially in winter, and mostly about food, kicking out at anyone in his firing line.  He may be small but that little ginger bottom is very quick and quite powerful.  He likes to wheel round and give out both barrels so therefore nobody wants to be near him.

I think it is Tiddles who gets most cross with Newt and tries to keep him in his place.  I know, Tiddles, who hasn’t a mean bone in his body but the exception is Newt.  He hates him.

Luckily for Newt, Silver will just about tolerate him and share the haynet.  I guess it’s because he is so much bigger and, if Newt starts acting up, he can swiftly put him in his place.

The others swap around with food and buckets and eventually reach some sort of peace.

Just not with Newt.  If he can’t be nice, he can’t be their friend and he only has himself to blame.  I refuse to feel sorry for Newt as I’ve seen his little bottom in action – like a tank turret firing as it goes round and round, regardless of aim, just making his point.