I did a terrible thing last night.  I opened the front door and Pepper got her foot caught, I think, under in it.  In my defence she was totally in the way, trying to get out before I had even opened the door properly.  Terriers do not wait nicely.

Anyway, it was all awful. Lots of squeaking about the pain.  I really had to go out quickly into the rain and sort out various animals but when I came back in a few minutes later, I found a pile of unhappiness shivering miserably to herself on the sofa.

So I scooped Pepper up, checked her over (no obvious breaks or blood or anything to speak of) and spent the rest of my evening hugging, brushing and apologising to her over and over again.

And now today, Pepper is mostly fine except when she remembers the trauma of last night.

I did phone the vet and we agreed on pain control over the weekend with a view  to bringing Pepper in, if things have not improved by Monday,

This afternoon, after flute duets, Pepper insisted on telling Mandy all about her woes and insisted she should be carried everywhere….. from henceforth.

When I look down at wee dug, there is a lot of this….. poorly paw.

And I still feel dreadful, which I think is possibly the aim.

Let’s hope Pepper makes it through the weekend.  And, again in my defence, when no one is looking or sympathising, then Pepper goes perfectly well on four legs with only a very slight limp.

Shoot me now.

Rain, rain and more rain.

To be fair, everyone didn’t hang around after breakfast asking for more food but I decided to give the ponies some hay to eat which would keep them warm and hopefully prevent them from shivering.

I speeded up this film as they all took their time coming up the hill but it is keeping them all fit!

The hay was a wise decision, I think.  They were very appreciative.

And even Vitamoo-bag was in a cooperative mood, letting me put her rug earlier on without the usual chasing after her fight which is quickly becoming the norm these days.

Fivla is always the tail-end Charlie but she got there eventually.  Speed is not her thing.  It never has been.  When she was a riding pony, she had two speeds – slow and stop.

So, while it poured with rain on and off all day, with more to come tomorrow, I went to my shed to make the grey sheep on the left.

I have a fibre block on soak and will go out later to dish it out to the ponies if they are still around.

The rain arrived in large lumps along with a thick pea-soup fog.

So I drove the horse-van to town to collect some more hurdles (I have big plans) as well as drop off more sheep for the field at Jamieson’s Knitwear on the Street.

I decided against taking Pepper as being dragged around town in the rain is not much fun for anyone.

Note how I parked the van very badly too.  I was not proud but desperate.

A quick nip around Tesco’s and I dashed home, dodging folk driving without lights and cyclists also without lights, or Darwin Award candidates as I like to think of them.  Honestly, who does this and why?

I now have a headache.

It did brighten up later, and please forgive my obsession with the weather, so I went out to the track and managed to get all the rugs off everyone without a headcollar and rope involvement.

Back up the hill lugging my rugs, and I noticed my real sheep were around.

I had words with Harrel-the-Barrel about stealing the hen food, telling him no good would come of his thieving ways as there is wormer powder in the grain.

“Jog on, chaps”

And that includes you, ‘Bert.

And someone isn’t talking to me but I have a feeling my headache would be even worse if she had come too.

Rain is forecast.  Not a huge amount and then ten minutes later, its a huge amount – it just depends where I get my weather forecast from. I have 3 apps on my phone and they all say something different.

But I do know I need to put the rugs on.

(and I love Tiddles’ face in this pic).

And this got me to remembering, as I climbed back up the hill, when the old ladies were younger ladies and they wore their Fair Isle sweaters for Visit Scotland’s advertising campaign in 2013.

That was a long time ago though in my head the old ladies look exactly the same and haven’t aged one bit.

I have been bad at letting the Diaries of my Great Great Aunt Kate slip.  There are just not enough daylight hours, or I don’t have the strength at the end of the day when I’ve finished making sheep, to sit down and type out teensy-tiny writing for an hour or so.

But they pray on my mind and I am genuinely keen to finish the project properly but at the rate I’m going, I might not.  I have only reached 1937 and she died in 1961.  You can do the math(s).

So this morning, instead of sitting at the kitchen table achieving very little apart from drinking a cup of coffee, I started transcribing the 1937 diary because I must keep going.  The writing doesn’t get any bigger as the years go by either.

After a good few hours, I had finished January and mostly put it on the internet page along with accompanying photos.  I needed to get some fresh air, stretch my legs and it was time to take the dogs out for a walk.

We happened upon Iacs having his morning snooze in the sun.

Haakon spotted me and wandered over to see if his cousin was getting anything nice to eat.

Oh, ok!

The dogs had a good time hunting and, as usual, catching nothing but enjoying themselves nonetheless.

After a good walk, we returned to find Monster guarding the house from invaders.

Luckily, he is very good at his job.  There were none around.

So my day has a new structure now.  I need to keep going with the diaries because I know myself and will never finish.   Onwards, ever onwards.