The weather is still fairly terrible (understatement of the year – it is ghastly), so having done all my crofting chores, I sat down in the sheep’s stable.  ‘Ster and ‘Bert, who have now rejoined their friends, have not really forgiven me for the eye treatment and I wanted to see if they would talk to me again.

Lambie was up like a shot giving me his best Winning Smile.

And his Greta!

He is so handsome.  What a dude!

Barrel is still perfecting his art, which is very sweet. He is Lambie’s BFF, even though it is totally unreciprocated.  Barrel knows if he follows Lambie everywhere, he is in with a chance for any secret treats.

While I sat down, Edna was one side. She wanted me to kiss her nose constantly.

And ‘Ster was on my other side.  His eyes are much better now.  We did hugging.

‘Bert and ‘Ster were indoors together for a week, and had two injections. I gave up on the eye ointment as it just made Ster hysterical and did nothing. He hated me. Bert never had the ointment and recovered just as quickly with just the injections, which didn’t go well.  Interestingly, when they rejoined their flock, there was an almighty battle between Bert and Barrel.  Thankfully, they’ve sorted themselves out now and, touch wood, no one else has caught it.

Zombie sheep! I am never alone.

It was blowing a “moderate gale from west” this morning (thank you yr.no) but I am lucky to have OH to help me take the buckets out to Icelandics in Clothie (which is a bit of a walk across the hill).

We take a pair of horses each.  OH was looking after Kolka and Klaengur.

While I was further up the hill keeping an eye on these two – Haakon and Iacs.

Luckily everyone is sensible.  Lift your head and you will lose your bucket – them’s are the rules.  We all know that and no one lifts their head.

The silly-frilly was in full frillédness in the brisk wind.

Turn the sound up if you want to hear it – the wind, not the frillédness!

And, once finished, we dished out a carrot each and OH and I struggled our way back home, washing the buckets in the small hill stream we have to cross, which always makes me think of that last scene in the Jungle Book, then I start humming the girl’s song and have that earworm for the rest of the day.

My job, at the moment, amongst many, is to walk the dogs and possibly the cat.

So off we set, Monster, Pepper and Ted.

Everyone wearing their hi-viz!

Nothing to see here. Move along!

Stealth cat.

Monster clambered through the fence, whining.

He got a bog-brush tail from the surprise of it all (we haven’t been this way for a while).

And complained bitterly about getting his paws dirty.

The rest of us just got on with it.

Because we are used to mud (oh, yes, we have mud.  Much mud at the moment).

From the initial 7 Muscovy ducks that I was given a couple of years back, we still have 6  – we lost two and kept 1 duckling, if that makes sense.

I am very fond of my ducky-wuckies. They are communicative in a non-quacking way and are very definite about what they want – mostly food, please!

And Penthesilea (the only one with a name apart from Mr Ducky, Black Ducky and Mother Ducky, though I am not 100% sure which one she is now), is still very keen on guddling in the mud.

She is a girl on a mission – I am trying very hard not to be too depressed about this as we have mud everywhere.

The ducks get around the croft quite far and fly past like Lancaster bombers. I don’t clip their wings.

They know where home is and I think it gives them a sporting chance against any predators during the day, though they go to bed at night in a totally closed hen-house.

They are no trouble and fascinating to watch.

Maybe there will be some ducklings this year.  I would quite like that.  Quite.

I drove down the track at Leradale this morning to see two grey (white) ponies standing next to each other and I asked myself the question “which is Fivla and which is Silver?” They looked identical and for a second I could not tell.

(this is Silver)

And I gave the bucket (I think) to Fivla.

Silver was keen to have it, even though he had managed to get himself on the wrong side of the fence while still being in the field (there is a sheep gathering place there).

Anyway Fivla definitely was not sharing.

So Silver worked his magic on me instead – yes, I had a few carrots about my person.

It is funny to think that Silver was originally a totally different colour when he first arrived and I was assured by his breeder that he would go white.  He has.

One day, I will give Fivla’s bucket to Silver.  I know this and, only when I have made this mistake, will Fivla tell me!

(btw, this is Silver!↓↓↓↓)