While I have been away south, Floss has been reacquainting herself with riding.  Before, Flossie had only been learning to ride her Icelandic horse, Klængur, during university holidays.

Today Bjørn Roar Larsen, our Level 3 FEIF trainer, gave Flossie and Klængur a superb riding lesson.

These past few weeks while I was away South, Daisy had been left with strict instructions to help and teach Flossie.  We could all see a huge difference and improvement in both horse and rider.  Lovely to see.  Also, we had a visitor, Simone from Switzerland, who gave Floss and Klængur yesterday a brilliant lesson.  All instruction is good instruction and very, very helpful.

Flossie is feeling inspired after watching Daisy competing in the British Championships last month.

Flossie has only been riding for two years (I never insisted she learned and, instead, have waited for her to ask for lessons) and I gave her Klængur as her twenty-first birthday present.

Klængur was my horse, that I bought from Iceland, but he works a hundred times better with Floss than he ever does with me.

They understand each other and are very much a happy team.

Meanwhile, for those that are wondering, Lambie has found his “Winning Smile” due to the fact that he has also found out about Kitkats – a chocolate-covered wafer bar confection – thank you very much, Daisy!

It is now downhill all the way!

The patients are doing very well.

Albie seems fine and not even noticing the bits that are missing.

He is in a small paddock with his friends and relatives – Tiddles (with conjunctivitis – being treated), One-Nut-Newt (who had a reprieve) and Storm (who came along for the ride, so to speak!)

They are a happy little bunch in the post-op ward.

Tiddles is keeping everyone on their hooves.  He likes to annoy.

I sat down with Albie and gave him lots of hugs.  He is fine, absolutely fine.

Meanwhile, the sheeples escaped onto the hill.  Obviously, now they are tagged, it does not matter but I like to call them home in the evening.

First up was ‘Ster who had lost the others and was hanging around with “Rammie”, an old wild Shetland ram who spends his time with Fivla and Vitamin, if he can.  ‘Ster was very happy to come home.

The films are worth the wait – darling boyzenberries take a while to come home.

Next up,  it was Lambie and ‘Bert’s turn to come home.  I just call them all, and they come running.  That hill goes back for at least 10 miles!

I love it when they run home, all enthusiastic to see me (or a bowl of food! – I tell myself it is me).

Toay the vet came to castrate Albie and Newt.  We had a very long to-do list for her.

First up was to microchip this year’s Icelandic horse foals.  We caught them an hour before and put them in the stable.  Then came the rugger scrum to get headcollars on.  Neither foal has ever worn one, let alone seen one.

But we managed.  It seemed a pity to waste a vet visit without trying.

So Morag, the vet, with the help of Simone, who was tremendous, microchipped and obtained DNA samples from both foals.

Lilja was hysterical with all this.

Dreki adopted a more pragmatic approach.

Both foals needed to have papers completed by the vet for their Icelandic Horse Society passport.

After that, the mares and foals were put back into their feld and next up was Albie.

He was given his pre-med.

And then was successfully castrated.  I was put to use by counting elephants (seconds) for the bloodless castrators – one full minute per snip.

Everything went very smoothly for Albie and, as I write, he is now up and happily living in a small paddock with Newt and Tiddles.

Meanwhile Newt, who was up next for castration, had a reprieve.  “One Nut Newt” is his new nomenclature and we have to wait and see if the other one arrives.

So Tiddles made his life a burden to him!

While the vet was in situ, she also removed a papilloma from Albie’s muzzle, checked Fivla was not too fat or had Cushings (she has a bit more weight still to lose) and also called BeAnne a Border Terrier (oh, the shame).

So, all in all, a busy day.

(Lambie says he may live the day and thanks you for all your messages of sympathy and concern.)

I have been reported to Defra (Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs) for having three untagged sheep on the premises.

It is illegal and, if I don’t tag them, I will be fined £5,000 this week.

So, with our backs up against the wall, we had no choice.

The sheeples are now all double tagged – one in each ear.  One with a microchip and one without.  Both have my flock number and their number.

We tagged them in the order they arrived in our lives.

Lambie is No 1.

‘Bert is No 2.

‘Ster is No 3.

What can I say?  I do not agree with this practice.  I think it is cruel, barbaric and very wrong.

When I asked why the sheeples should be tagged. I was told it was for identification purposes.   I could identify my three anywhere. They don’t leave the premises. They are pets.

If I tagged my dog, BeAnne, I would be reported for cruelty.  Why is it different rules for sheep (and cows)?  Do not use the argument that it doesn’t hurt them because it does.  While it was being done,Lambie ground his teeth (pain) and is now hanging his head on the floor.  He is very upset, he hurts and he is telling me.

Thirty minutes before they were tagged, Daisy and I put Emla (local anaesthetic cream) cream in their ears but I don’t think I put it in far enough so it didn’t work well.

‘Bert and ‘Ster pretty quickly got over their ordeal.  They’ve had chats, biscuits and scratches.

But I spent an hour sitting outside with Lambie playing him The Carpenters trying to calm him down.

Five hours on and Lambie is still very upset and stressed.  He is not lifting his head.  No biscuits in the world is going to make this situation better.  I may have to buy some medical Wotsits.

My poor boys.  Bureaucracy stinks.

Today, as it was non-stop rain, I spent in the house doing “stuff”.

I tried resting – I want to get rid of my cold which is refusing to budge – but ended up discovering a steam cleaner I didn’t know about, blasting the kitchen, tripping over its electric cord, breaking my new-to-me equipment (twice).  I gave up my cleaning endeavours and baked a cake.

The cake is for Flossie, my youngest daughter, to celebrate passing her finals – she will graduate at the end of September.

Meanwhile, the horses and ponies have been entertaining themselves in the rain.  I think that is Albie and Efstur having a very good game together.  I love the way Efstur just sits on Albie at the end!

I can vaguely see them in the never-ending drizzle.

But rain is good – the grass is really growing now and we are now at the stage where I have to be careful where I put the animals.  It really is a juggling act all year round.  Too fat, too thin, nursing a foal, running up and down the fence shouting at the ladies, in training, not in training…… all reasons for grass or no grass.

Meanwhile, during my abscence my vegetables have done about as badly as they can.  The rocket has gone to seed having had no leaves, the peas are dying and the only things making an effort, that I can see, are the carrots, beetroot and lettuce.

I am learning.

Still, lots to do and when the rain stops, I might even ride a horse!