This is a late night blog because I’ve just got in from a great party.

I think tomorrow will be a lazy day for recovery.

I’m not used to this lifestyle at all but it was great fun and will be worth the morning-after feeling.

So, I promise to make up for today’s lack of words and piccies with tomorrow’s blog when the sun is meant to shine and it will be a lovely day.

I just wish I could have a lie in but that wouldn’t be fair on all the animals.

I spent all of yesterday watching Haakon like a hawk who spent all of yesterday lying down or standing up but not eating.  Please, not colic, was all I could say under my breath.

I even went out to feed him a carrot while he was lying down, which he gracefully accepted.  I listened for bowel sounds, which had.  But, ever worried, that night I gave him some of Bibble’s probiotic paste and promptly made a note to get some wormer as soon as possible.

These photos are from my last wander of the night. Seeing the horses eat made me feel easier about things.  The night before had been very midgey and I think everyone was exhausted from that.  Hence the resting all day and not eating.

Anyway, today, I wormed them all so I can tick any lurking nasties off the list.

But while I was doing my late evening checks, I noticed Newt had obviously read my previous blog about not being a very nice pony.

And there he was doing lovely sharing with everyone, even Waffle.  I didn’t know Newt could read but I feel encouraged he is now making an effort.  Maybe he didn’t like being publically shamed.

I needed to get some petrol, which is a 20 minute drive away and on the way home, I turned off the main road to go and look at the spectacular heather on the hills in a place where I always know it is breath-taking – West Burrafirth.

The heather did not disappoint.

And the smell was incredible too, even sitting in my car.

It has been a particularly good year for heather.  The surrounding hills are a beautiful purply-pink.

I stopped at this little Methodist Chapel.  It has a white marble tablet in a stone-framed niche on the gable end with an inscription in black lead lettering commemorating the men fallen in both the First and Second World Wars – 10 from the First and 2 from the Second.  I am not sure if the Chapel is still in use.  I have a feeling it isn’t, though there is a bunch of artificial flowers in every window which makes it special.

Back on the road to a favourite heather spot – Fogrigarth. This is Hurdi Field with its stone causeway.

And then back to the main road and there’s Papa Stour Ferry pier in the distance.

These stone structures intrigue me.  They are known as Horizontal Mills – there are three of them.

From Canmore – “The Norse, or horizontal, mills ….. are typical examples of a once-common type of water mill found in Shetland, Orkney and Lewis. The mill used one wheel (tirl) with blades mounted on a horizontal plane, driving a single pair of grindstones. This simple design meant that multiple mills could be built on a length of stream, with a family or small partnership each owning their own mill.”

I enjoyed my little excursion.  That heather was breathtaking.  Definitely worth the drive.

Carrots, anyone?

And Waffle?  To be fair, I had just moved a few fence posts back for a wee bit of grazing and only Waffle had worked it out.

Meanwhile, the old men were wandering around like Colonel Hathi’s regiment of elephants!

And for some reason, the sheep had run home out of their field.

They were in a state of conniption.

Most, except for Maggie and Edna.

It was the midges. They had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and in a viscious mood.

Poor Lambie was hysterical despite his anti-midge collar.

Meanwhile in Duckland…… Ducky #1 Club were enjoying their wheelbarrow/pond arrangement.   They have grown hugely. I still think there are two boys and one girl.

Can you see the midges?  They are everywhere and I may be a little obsessed.

With Ducky #2 Club, daughter is huge (I am pretty sure she is a she).

Everyone is bothered by the midges.  There is no escape (she types as she goes inside shutting every window and lighting many joss sticks).  Gah!

Ladies and Gentlemen, Members of the jury, please be upstanding for the judge!

The Victim is Waffle.

And the Accused is Newt.

And we are judge and jury (so you know).

Every night I call the Minions to their wee paddock where there is soaked hay waiting in the hayboxes and a turmeric treat for anyone arriving promptly.

They all canter in happy to accept the routine of 12 hours on and 12 hours off the grazing.

All except Newt, who manages to position himself on the narrow track between the wee paddock and Waffle. And there he stands, not letting Waffle pass.  Not ever, if he has his way.  But he doesn’t. I won’t let him.

So, every night, I have to go down and tell Newt what a horrid bully he is, and somehow manage to get Waffle past him so he can go to bed like a good boy.

Of course, Newt doesn’t care and he doesn’t get a turmeric treat either.  Not for that behaviour.

No one else is mean like this.

And so this is the face of a criminal who doesnt care, won’t learn and has to rule the world. Uncool Newt, uncool, I tell him very evening.  Just as well he is small.

Of course the others are oblivious and I feel very sorry for Waffle, who is playing the victim beautifully.  *** sigh ***