I swithered at breakfast and I made the rookie mistake of taking off Fivla’s rug because the weather-forecast was good.

And everyone walked out of the muddy field to their better pasture while Fivla took herself to stand by the gate to tell me she wanted her rug right back on. By the time I came back outside, she’d moved into the shed and I knew she meant business.  It was also now raining.

So the rug went back on and I gave her a new sample of minerals for her joint function made from the ground horns of gilded unicorns to see if that would help her too.  Feeling warmer, Fivla then left to join the herd and I sucked my teeth and swithered about my decision that morning,

After lunch, I went out to see Fivla and her rug.

I swithered a bit more about whether she should or should not be wearing it. The forecast is pretty nice for a while – but it is cold (RealFeel -2C).

However, I did notice that Fivla was more alert and much chattier – so is it the rug or the supplement?  She is not warm either, just the right temperature.

She showed me that she was walking well in it, which was another worry I was having.

Meanwhile, Pepper was happily chatting to Newt.

So sweet.

I left them all swithering about whether to buy another rug with slight fill (50g) just because we are not truly out of winter and it’s always good to have a second in the wings……

Once home, I bought 60 sachets of the supplement too!

And swithering, for those that don’t know, means “to be uncertain as to which course of action to choose” which really sums up my whole day!

Rain is forecast for the next 24 hours.  Quite a lot, really.

When I went out with the dogs for a walk, I found that Waffle and Albie had taken up residence with Fivla standing patiently outside and not being allowed inside.  Rotters.

The boys refused to budge and I felt sorry for Fivla while I was walking the dogs in the ponies’ field.  It was also beginning to rain too.

(I love these three photos of Silver – he is a quiet little character but makes me smile when I think how he has come out of his shell over the years).

I cut the dog walk short (I had a hospital appointment later so time was limited anyway) and I told Fivla to follow me out of the field.

Her new rainsheet had arrived a few days ago, so I popped it on her praying it would fit.  Back out into the field, the muddy bit, and Fivla was investigated (Newt now in the shed) thoroughly.

The rug seems a nice neat fit and I like the pink trim for Fivla – she is a girlie pink girl.

She walked through the mud, which isn’t as deep as you would think as we live on boulder rock so it is not eye-watering wellie-losing deep.

I followed her to see that everything was staying in place and I think going a size up was a wise decision.

So while it rains tonight, I will know this old lady will stay dry and comfortable.

I think Fivla quite likes her new rug too.

Lambie was in a pensive mood this morning. I notice these things.

And after I had finished all the chores, I asked if they wanted to go into their field.  Everyone refused and the boys seemed very keen to follow me to the gate.  So I let them out into the Big Bad World, well, the hill actually.  This was Barrel’s first time but I knew the others would look after him.  They all know the hill very well.

The girls had to stay behind because the ram is probably still out and I don’t want them knocked up.

Instead, I fed them biccies and they seemed happy enough with that (Madge was somewhere else).

Later this afternoon, having coming out to feed the duckies/hens, I heard a plaintive wail – Barrel had come home and the other 3 were nowhere to be seen.  I let him back in and told him he was very clever for coming back and he had done just the right thing.

So, as the sun was setting, I shouted a bit into the hill to see if there was any movement.

And over the horizon came Lambie, ‘Bert and ‘Ster, plus a friend, I see.

The friend didn’t come too, which was good, and my lot made their way home.

Lambie did a lovely jump over the stream.  He’s still got it!

And I opened the gate and my sheep came home, joining up with Harrel and the ladies.

Apparently they had a very nice time, thank you very much!

(and if anyone’s getting angsty, I do have a legitimate crofting sheep allocation for the hill)

It’s been a trying morning.

I have been designing a stamp to go on a brown sticker that is under each felted sheep’s belly.  The old one was hand-written and said “By Frances x” but I have decided I want something a bit more professional looking.

I found The Green Stamp Company online and I liked their website, so I thought I would have a shot at designing my ideal stamp.

This company measure in millimetres or centimetres and I am aiming for a round 2.4 cm design.

Question: Big or small sheep in the middle?  Too big and it looks too full. Too small and it is could get lost in the middle due to now being tiny to fit onto the sticker.

Problem:  The brown craft sticker I am buying separately off Amazon is measured in inches!  Why?  Just why?

Plan: I am going to buy the 1″ round stickers on a roll hoping that a 2.4 cm stamp will fit.  1″ apparently is 2.54 cm.

My inal judgment for the sticker is probably the label marked “bigger” or possibly the “3 cm label” which will actually be 2.4 cm on the 1″ label.  To me, this makes sense.  If it’s gibberish to you, then I’m sorry. You are actually listening to my brain working out loud.

A friend mocked up a finished version for me and I like it very much and that really helped my decision making process.  I do not have the skills to make Photoshop do that for me.

My brain is now mush from all this effort.

We haven’t been to the beach in ages and I’ve started to think that the dogs and I are not very good at going out and also the dogs don’t know how to wait nicely in the car.

So, today, I took them to the beach for their dog-walk, en route to taking OH his forgotten packed lunch.

We had the place to ourselves, which is always nice.

Not a soul to be seen.

I tried a new-to-me technique on my camera phone, which was a bit hit and miss, but interesting.

The dogs had a good, if short, runaround because both streams on either side of the beach that are usually wadeable through, were running very fast and full.  We didn’t dare go across though I did wonder whether the intrepid Pepper would have a shot.

Crossing is not for the foolhardy.

I called her off and said if she went, she would be on her own.

They had a good run home and we all enjoyed the change of scenery.

On we drove to deliver the gratefully received lunch-box and I turned the car around at the bottom of the road.

And I saw a pair of Shalders (oyster-catchers) looking very fat and well.  My heart soared.  Spring is on its way.  This is the sign.

When the birds flew off, because they spotted me, their high-pitched shout gave me some hope of being warmer and drier.  We would all love that.