“La vengeance est un plat qui se mange froide” from Pierre Choderlos de Laclos’s epistolary novel Les Liaisons Dangereuses, 1782 or “revenge is a dish best served cold” according to our household.

Yup, you guessed it, Pepper’s revenge after yesterday’s totally unprovoked attack by Monster, was to clamber into his beloved and-only-his bed that evening.

This is Pepper’s she-knows-and-I-know face.  Butter wouldn’t melt but she’s feeling very hard done by and wanted revenge.

And so Pepper settled down for the evening so that Monster had to take up position, on OH’s knee.  He did manage a very smug I-don-t-care face at everyone.

You can almost hear the snoring.

And then later, now with a taste for other folk’s beds, I found Pepper happily snoozing in Ted’s sacred, and only his, bed.  The one next to my bed.  Again, she had made herself very comfortable.

And was going nowhere.  Now, I have never seen Pepper sleep in Ted’s bed.  That’s not her place (she sleeps on the people bed while Ted always chooses not to).

So there is politics going on here and I am not sure who is playing one-upmanship with whom but it is definitely going on.  Ted, of course, is oblivious and has no idea what is going on.

I blame Monster. He started it.

It was a lovely day in the late afternoon yesterday.  I had a mad thought – I wanted to brush the ponies and give the dogs a run around too.

So, obviously, Monster wanted to come as well.

Well, he follows us everywhere .

After immense pony mane and tail brushing by Flossie and I, we sat on a rock and admired our hard work and I thought Floss deserved a small rest after all I have made her do this week.

Everyone was around enjoying the scenery too.

Obviously, we had a musical accompaniment.  No need for any radio.

Pepper and Ted were having a lovely mad game of running around and trying to kill each other and I could see Monster watching them closely (look at those fat little paws).

A cat on a mission.

It was a boisterous game, with lots of rough and tumble, and both dogs were having great fun.

And so Monster walked up to where they were playing and beat them both up!  Eh?

So that was the end of the game. The Fun Police had stopped them in their tracks.

The dogs were more than a bit suprised at what had happened so we went back inside.  Floss and I both thought it was a bit mean of Monster to do this but I expect he had his reasons.

It is Floss’ last full day – she is off tomorrow evening back south – so I totally exploited her goodwill and we built three more duck-runs ready for the duckling arrival.

We lugged and heaved and positioned where we (ok, I) wanted them).  A friend gave us this superb run, which is the answer to all our prayers.

Meanwhile Duckie-Mother #1 is doing fun with her brood.

Two boys and one girl, I think and she still hates me, but slightly less.

Duckie #2 with her only duckling lives separately in her shed.  She only slightly hates me.  Bebé is divine and may be a girl.  She likes to sit in her food and the mess is phenomenal in their shed.

This is my anti-scavenger door.  It works a treat.

And so we are waiting on these three….. still.

I think this one will be next.

Then this one (Penty’s mother).

And lastly Penthesilea, who is now professionally “on the job” and tells me all about it when she emerges for food.

I have no idea how many eggs they are sitting on, if any, but I think it is best to be prepared while I have Floss helping.  I don’t want to do the lugging on my own (OH is working).   So now we are ready for more ducklings. Bring them on!

I spent the afternoon building this little sheeple.

So afterwards, I took the dogs out for a run.  We went to Clothie – the five acre croft that is a little walk across the scattald (open hill).

The field has not been grazed since spring, I think, so the grass and flowers have gone mad growing.

It is stunning and we enjoyed walking/running around.

There are flowers everywhere.

Red Clover

Marsh Thistle

Selfheal

Bog Asphodel

Common Cotton-Grass wet from the rain

Marsh Lousewort

And these are “Dockens” or Docks

If I have any plant identifications wrong (which I probably have), please let me know soonest so I can correct any errors.

hentilagets n. – tufts of wool lost from sheep’s backs and gathered from pasture. (Shetland dialect)

Floss and I were out again this morning to build the second leg of our electric fenced track for the Minions.

I don’t think the ponies were very impressed but it has to be.

The second bit will eventually join onto the first bit and goes around the rest of the field, missing out our septic tank which is always a squishy bit.  I also needed to leave a track so I could lead the horses out of the field without too much bother.

We encircled Vitamin and Fivla with electric fence but they have the rest of the field – the inside bit – and they seemed happy enough with that.  There is much more grass and they hate moving around, tending to stay close by the others, probably lording it over them that they have all the grass.

I briefly thought about strimming the dockens but decided not to as I would have to clear them all up afterwards and actually nobody minds them so who cares.

Newt also likes walking through them. Camouflage. Not.  They tickle his very low to the ground tummy.

So we worked hard working out the maths of it all, ie which hurdles we can use for gates and how to get horse and ponies in and out.  We didn’t want to paint ourselves into a corner!

I am pleased it has all come together now.

My vision is realised and, I think, works….. so far.

Floss was wonderful and lugged, set up and helped.  She was full of ideas too, which I needed as it all got a bit impossible at one stage.

And no one is alone and miserable.

There are always visitors.