I am still transcribing my Great Great Aunt Kate’s diaries and, because today is a special day and one which she lived through, I dug out the 1944 diary to look at what she wrote.  I have only reached 1936 so I am jumping a few years on.

It’s another small diary – they all are tiny – and the writing is minute too but I mostly have my eye in by now and know her ways and shorthand.

It was also stuffed full of little bits of newspaper cuttings.

Anyway, I thought you might be interested in her entry for that week….

Some background: Kate is 65 years old.  Her sister, Alys (my great grandmother) is 60.  For the duration of the war, they have left the dangers of London to live at Layton Manor, Richmond, Yorkshire (left to Alys’ husband (my great grandfather), Dennis, a few years back).  Dennis is at Ashbridge Hospital, Berkhamsted working as a pathologist for the Army.  The sisters are looking after James, Alys’ grandson (my uncle).  My mother (Eve) is 4 years old and remains with her mother.

Allies enter Rome – June 4^th, 5^th
We land in France between Cherbourg and Le Havre
Airborne and seaborne. Fighting in Caen 6th

Tuesday 6^th June 1944
Windy. Cool.
Baden said Invasion started. Heard at 10 o’clock. Eisenhower speech to Europeans and troops. Dutch and Belgian; Prime Ministers Auctioneer’s men taking furniture all day. Alys gave them sausages and mash. I got tea. We had oxtail, red currants and raspberries and custard. To Dimmock, Holt, Barnes, Gell, Dob, O’Brin. Cake and water. James with Alan. Wrote Ella. Listened to news. To garden, pigs and lettuces, sausages and bacon. I late so no bath. Brains Tr; Meynell. King spoke.

Memo:
10^th Fete 6^th Auction men and 7^th
5^th James’ 7^th birthday
6^th INVASION started. Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force – “SHAEF”.
10^th Rents
9^th Miss Brown with posters.

And I found tucked into the diary this little folded slip of paper.

I am very humbled by this.  Somehow words don’t seem enough.

From this……

To this…..

Via this…..

….  which is Scalloway, were Foxy Dog (Ted’s brilliant dog-groomers are).

Scalloway is a fishing port on the west side of the island that was the capital of Shetland until 1708, when it moved to Lerwick.

A lovely place with such huge character, including a monument to the Shetland Bus, the Norwegian resistance movement in WW2.

What I like most about Scalloway is that it’s very colourful …..

And full of character.

So Ted is now beautiful and I think we are all very happy for that. We tell ourselves he is less Greasy Muppet and more Handsome Prince, thankfully.

When I put Waffle, Tiddles and Albie into their paddock inside the shed for their laminitiss, I knew it was the paddock was a bit small but that was all the hurdles we had at the time.

So, today, I went to town armed with a pile of cash (from my sheep sales) and bought 12 hurdles to extend the paddock.  You don’t get many hurdles for a pile of cash but it was enough.

Once I had expertly rearranged, again, the car and trailer, I drove the van into the school and we let the boys out to play while we built their extension.

They were very happy and I think I will let them out to play on a daily basis.  They were cantering around giggling.

And investigated the whole set up getting into places they shouldn’t.

But the boys seemed happier even when I put them back in their new-and-improved paddock.  Not so small now.

OH also went around with pliers cutting off the loose chicken net ends and Tiddles “helped”.

I bought a gate for the big shed door that has to be chicken-proof because, if the door is open, they tend to come in and churn up the hay on the floor, which is annoying.

Later, this afternoon, I went in and brushed everyone.  They needed it.  Très bouffant.

I think the little boys felt better for being brushed, even Tiddles who hates being brushed.

My morning was spent lugging hurdles, feed bowls, feed boxes and setting up the massive water bucket in the big shed.

First, I parked the car and trailer properly, getting the van out for tomorrow’s trip to town for more hurdles.  You should’ve seen me reverse that trailer into the very small spot. I was brilliant and there was no one there to watch or applaud.  Isn’t that always the way?

And I made my wee paddock, which will be bigger once I buy the hurdles tomorrow (felted sheep money).

Although the little boys made themselves very at home in the sheep’s stable, I found that the they spent all last night eating the old sheep bedding which cannot be good for them. Also, the sheep were appalled that they have no bedroom.  They were very upset and refused to eat their breakfast in their “new” place.  It just didn’t work.

(Tiddles new BFF was a chicken)

So, I walked each pony separately into their new pen and the reason for not letting them have the whole indoor sand school is because last year (I think but it all seems a blur) Tiddles became a chippie-chipmunk and spent his days and nights eating the boards giving himself colic and nearly killing himself.  Hence the pen = no wood = no colic, please, thank you.

They are not thrilled with this new arrangement but they will get used to it and it will be better when it is bigger with the new hurdles that I will buy tomorrow.

I told them that.

Anyway, it is what it is and Waffle, Tiddles and Albie have to just suck it up, live there, lose weight, get sound while not having COLIC!  Them’s the rules.

I could not feel more of a failure to my Shetland ponies.

Yesterday, I took Tiddles and Albie into the small paddock where they will now live as they were walking with a very stiff gait. I was sucking my teeth while my waters were churning.

Today, Waffle joined them.

It seems that whatever I try to do for my ponies is the wrong thing.

I had put all my hopes into track-life being the way forward for them.  The winter weight was coming off beautifully and everyone was running around happily and then suddenly three of them weren’t.

It is a constant juggling act – trying to keep the weight on Vitamoo, while making the others lose weight and stay sound.

Tiddles isn’t even very fat.  Waffle was but has lost weight but Albie is rotund. To suddenly find them getting all the signs of laminitis is incredibly depressing.

How did Albie get fat on the track, while the others are losing weight eating the exact same thing?

I do think, however, that their hooves are all in a desperate need of a trim and the only thing we can do is wait for our farrier’s next visit. I don’t scrimp on trimming, I don’t ever miss a visit – the spring grass makes hooves grow and they could just all be very uncomfortable.  Maybe after a good trim, they will walk better and everything will be alright. We just have to wait until the end of the month for our appointment.

So it is back to soaking hay, monitoring everything they eat and worrying constantly that they are managing with no colic and not in pain.  I am so upset with myself.  I thought I was doing the right thing but obviously I wasn’t.