There are days when I think I am just a mere servant to my sheep.  Today was such a day.

We started with them going into their field after breakfast but Lambie and ‘Bert wanted to come out so I let them out and put them into the hill.

Then Lambie stood by the gate looking forlorn so I let them in again.

Then they wanted out again, and I told them that I was not a doorman so make up your ruddy minds, chaps and walked off.

Later, I went out to see whether Lambie and ‘Bert wanted to rejoin their flock as I secretly hate them all being separated.   But first, I sat down with them for a little cuddle and a chat.

‘Bert’s idea of a good cuddle is to stick his head in my oxter (armpit).

Feeling kind, I opened the gate and Lambie walked into the field, and everyone else left (surely that must tell you something, Lambie).  As it was now mid-morning, I decided that instead of mooching around, everyone should go into another field.  At this stage, Lambie, Bert, Gussie, Dahlia and Barrel went enthusiastically in, leaving Madge, Edna, ‘Ster and Maggie behind.  I left them all to it.  I had had enough.

On my way back to the house, I popped by Family Duck to be traditionally sworn at.

The little ones are much bigger now but still very fluffy, though.  So sweet.  Their door remains closed.

I title this photo “when your mother brushes your hair!”

Poor Newt.  He is very bouffant now.

As was Tiddles, who tried so hard to stand still even though he absolutely hates being brushed.

However, Waffle loves being brushed.  He immediately turned up to stand in the queue making sure he would be next.

Silver didn’t.  He was departing while I brushed so he got a headcollar on him and tied to the gate.  He was the worst of them all – very greasy and knots which had to be picked out, each one.

Sadly, he lost a lot of his forelock to this process.

And lastly Albie who scrubbed up very well.  Again, he loves being brushed and so he wedged himself against Waffle in the hope that I would remember to brush him as well.

So that’s me for another year then!  They don’t look too bad.

As you have probably guessed, I am not a huge fan of brushing but today I decided to quickly brush five horses/ponies before I went in to have breafkast.

It started to drizzle while I brushed Fivla who was very good and just stood there.  I did her mane and tail and I am very glad I did.  She had matted greasy lumps in her mane of old hair which I had to split up, hair by hair, and eventually brush out.  It was totally my fault. I had left it far too long – one of those jobs when I told myself I must do it and never got around to it.

Anyway, it rained and I brushed great lumps out. Her tail was not much better. Lots of dead hair.

Then Vitamin wandered up to see what I was doing with her friend so automatically joined the queue.

Again, she was very good while I got rid of the matted bits.  Her tail was much easier, which made me think I would be inside soon for my breakfast.

Then Bibble and his silly-frilly (forelock).   He was definitely another on my to-do list as he was developing “witches’ knots” in his mane.

Kolka loves being groomed.  It’s her thing, apparently.  So she got stroppy and walked off mid-groom. I wrapped a pony head-collar around her neck as I had nothing else and told her to stand up and wait nicely while I brushed her skanky, yes, skanky greasy mane out.  Her tail was not much better either.

Once done, she was pleased she had bothered.

Lastly there was Haakon. By now my breakfast was calling me but I wanted to finish this lot first.  Luckily, Haakon was, as ever, perfect and his mane and tail took one minute tops.  No knots, no grease, no mats, nothing.

My handsome boy.

Tomorrow, maybe the ponies.

I made an effort this year and planted out pansies in all the Belfast sinks.

I learned my lesson from a few years’ back that the only flower I can actually grow sucessfully are pansies. Everything else hates me and promptly dies, including all herbs.  I proved this theory by managing to kill two thyme plants within a week of planting them.  Even mint hates me.

OH is really in charge of the garden. This is his domain so I can credit him totally with these gorgeous pink lilies which this time of year usually get caught in a good gale and end up being cut down to come into the house so we can appreciate their glory.  This year, they are surviving in the garden. 

OH also built himself a rockery and has been keenly tending to this adding more plants every time he goes into town.

And when I was on my spring plant buying spree, I bought five strawberry plants, that swiftly vanished and were taken over by some rogue potato plants that I had no idea existed.  So tatties instead of strawberries, which is not what I anticipated.

Meanwhile, in the world of duckling, these two are still surviving, which is pretty miraculous.

Mum is her usual cowbag self so I am quick with the food and water changes just in case she makes good on her threats.

I am sorely tempted to let the little family out but a) the ducklings are still edible and b) I don’t trust anyone so I won’t for the time being, until the little ones are a bit bigger and less defenseless.

I laughed out loud when I saw who was greeting me at the field gate this morning.

You have to hand it to Gussie, no one gets in the way of his breakfast.  Unlike the others, he has no fear of the horses or ponies.  Food is his motivator.

Ditto everyone else.

It was a very midgey day – bitey little bar stewards.  When I went outside I was suddenly attacked by sharp tiny needles.  It was screamingly awful.  So I went back inside, to find my invaluable mosquito net for protection.

Lambie particularly hates this weather. He goes into a complete decline and just wants out so he can find the highest spot on the hill that might have some wind.  I let him out and he ran off never looking back.

Later, I came back from packing veg to find that Lambie had moved nearer the house again, so I shouted over to him that he could come home if he wanted.  There was now a slight breeze so the midges had gone and he seemed much happier about life.

He pottered back.

Like a good boy.  Lambie knows the drill and he asked to go in with the others in their field.

Poo-picking and I found Tiddles, as usual, by himself.  I wonder why he’s not interested in the new long grass.  He seems perfectly content to eat the very short, almost invisible stuff.  The others are the same.  They are not very keen to eat it either.  Not obsessed, like usual.  I brought them all up last night and put them in their paddock so they could have some time off from the grass.  I might do the same tonight, if I can persuade them again.