The rain lashed down and then there was thunder and lightning too, which, for us, is very unusal.

Obviously I felt so sorry for the ponies and shouted for them to come up to the shelter but they refused – so I left them, thinking “your choice”.

However, I did go outside in full wet-weather-survival-suit gear and let the sheep out of their field (they didn’t need any encouragement) so they could shelter in their shed.

While I was outside there was a lightning strike which made me cry.  I have no idea why I did this. I was howling, tears dripping, snot, the full works, with a huge amount of throat-rising anxiety.  It has taken me all day to come off this particular mountain.  So not like me.  I am not scared of thunder and lightning and in fact was looking forward to photographing it but failed. I have no idea what happened.  Perhaps it was a delayed reaction to when BeAnne (my dearest darling Patterdale who is no more) ran away many years back in a thunderstorm and was lost for 24 hours – that feeling of worry and utter dispair when a beloved has not come home.

So, once everything weather-wise had calmed down, I took the dogs for a walk so I could get some perspective and breathe again.

Eventually the Shetland ponies came up and I gave them two haynets so they could feel full and happy.

This was gratefully received and helped to make me feel better.

Althought not BeAnne, Pepper was a good subsitute and has been with me all day.

Even offering a sympathetic ear to my silliness.

Later, poo-picking, I realised everyone was fine and we have all weathered this particular storm.

You’ve gotta love a man with a digger and today they arrived first thing to dig out the muddy gateway of the winter track – the one where Newt struggles to walk through – so I had to feed the Shetland ponies away from there as a) they would offer to help, b) escape and c), d) and e) be very annoying….. a lot.  T’is their way.

I know this.  They have form.  Many a fencer has been “helped” and had his tools taken off him and sandwiches not-so-very-politely removed.  I have heard the outraged screams and pretended not to notice.

Not mentioning any names but honestly the finger points mostly Waffle (and all his friends).

So the digger and the driver were spared the expert help of the Shetland ponies because I shut the gate first.

However, the boys didn’t seem to mind.  As they are not used to eating from real buckets (we favour the indestructable rubber trug method), they had a great time trying to work out how to steal from each other.

And my new and improved gateway is now a vision and ready for winter.  Hopefully it will harden up and dry out in the next few months and then be ready now firm, not waterlogged mud for winter and not descend into another soggy pile of gutter (Shetland dialect for mud).  This is an experiment.

Well, if I had nothing much to write about the other day, I have even less today.  I really need to go out more (ugh * shudders *) or stop writing this blog before I bore everyone to death.

But my same old, same old routine suits me perfectly.  I want everyone to stay exactly how they are – well and looking good.  It is all I need but I do realise that this may not be for everyone.

The excitement of poo-picking the track every afternoon listening to an audiobook, while I am being stalked by five creepy neighbours is all that ever happens.

I like to spend my time watching Newt annoy Silver, and anyone else who gets in the way of Newt’s World Domination.  The smallest v. the biggest of the Shetland ponies and we all know who wins.

You guessed correctly.

But I have changed my daily routine slightly – I now make my sheep in the afternoon and have gone back to transcribing my Great Great Aunt’s diaries as I really want to finish this project in my lifetime.  I have reached 1944 and, although the writing is teensy-tiny and almost illegible, I only have 17 more years to do if my eyesight doesn’t give out first.

I found this tucked into the 1944 diary and spent some time trying to work out each “interpretation”.  I thought it was amusing, and if you have trouble just try saying the words out loud.  I will admit that I had to have help on a few.

The answers:
Charing Cross
Marble Arch
Strand
St Paul’s
Hyde Park Corner
Baker Street for Madame Tussaud’s
Mansion House
Tottenham Court Road
Hampstead
Elephant & Castle
Oval
St John’s Wood
Hammersmith Broadway

Very clever.

I was just going around testing the electric fence for efficacy when I found this lot asleep.  At first I could only see the ones standing up and was a bit alarmed until I saw the others fast asleep.

I had a little sit and chat to kiss noseys and assure everyone I was not going to ever feed them again.  Tough love – stay strong, Frances, stay strong, I tell myself.

So I spent my morning wondering how I could make the electric fence zap that bit stronger as the growing grass behind it was now touching and earthing the current.  Not good.  The ponies would break through soon unless I did something fast.  I was being watched all the time, mostly by Waffle. I could almost hear him planning.

And while I was busy disconnecting this bit and attaching that bit, I noticed I was being followed by a herd of heffalumps.  Lots of galloping, bucking and farting, which made me smile.  There is no lack of energy around here – burn off the calories, boys, I told them and don’t touch that fence, ever.

Absolutely nothing happened today – except for rescuing a baby bunny from Pepper and hoping it lived – but apart from that absolutely nothing happened.

I made these two in the afternoon.  The start of a new flock.  All the rest went to the shop yesterday.

After the dogs/cat tea, me, my trusty bucket and Marigolds (rubber gloves) went to poo-pick the track.  I met this lot at the end, looking for non-existent grass in the dying-back marsh marigolds.  Usually by now they have a new bit of track to eat down but…..

…. I looked at Albie and my heart hardened.  On fresh air, he has gained 20kg, as have the rest of them so nope, absolute nope, not until Albie’s crest has gone and there is a rib under all that fat.

Silver tried to tell me he had ribs.

They were all very argumentative.

When I asked Newt if he had ribs, he ran round me.  I couldn’t get near him so gave up trying. He was in one of those moods.

He wanted to annoy everyone.

And, if the ponies try the fence, I will strim down everything on the other side until it zaps them all good and proper.

I told you my heart has hardened. These days I am one tough Muzzah.