Scattered around Shetland, mostly near places of residence, are these small walled round enclosures (sometimes they can be square) called planticrubs.

I have four directly behind my house and Clothie (my separate five acre croft) in the open hill (scattald).  These planticrubs are all fairly close to each other but the walls are broken in places.  They don’t have any door-ways so I guess folk would scramble over the walls to get in.

They are very old and originally built for growing young kale and cabbage plants, protecting them from the harsh Shetland wind before planting them out.  That makes sense.  You can see the higher level of earth inside so it would make an excellent planting place – beautifully sheltered.

Apparently, and I did not know this, Shetland kale/cabbage is the oldest known Scottish local vegetable variety. It has been grown on Shetland since at least the 17th Century.

(I am not a fan in any form).

These days, the sheep use them for shelter in winter jumping over the now rumbled dry-stone walls while the immense bunny population make their homes in the soft peaty earth inside.  The dogs love investigating them.  I often wonder how old these planticrubs are and to which croft they belonged.  I find local history fascinating.

I spent my day sorting fleece, having a lovely lunch and starting to transcribe a journal.  This means putting Aunt Kate’s diaries on the back-burner for a little while as this is a real job.

Then, to get some exercise, a change of scenery and some air, I put on my Marigolds (rubber gloves) and grabbed my trusty bucket to go round the track picking up poo.  Although it is not the best job in the world, I actually don’t mind it as I plug myself into a good audiobook and off I go happy in my own little world.

At the end of the track, I found all the Shetland ponies.

I had a quick chat with each one.

Newt was in a mood so I didn’t really bother with him and thought him rude as he walked off in a huff taking Silver with him.  I think they are all a bit peeved with me as it rained solidly last night and I didn’t give them any hay, just a huge bag of celery tops from Turriefield.  Ingrates.  They spent their night sulking in their containers because apparently I don’t care.

Also, I’ve taken on board what everyone has said about Family Duck and I think they are staying in their enclosure until either a) more even smaller ducklings appear needing this or b) they are big enough to be released to join the others without fear of being eaten by anyone.

Monster is not my greatest fear but he too does have a penchant for poultry.  Not a fan of fish, though.

It was my turn to walk the dogs this morning so I took them over to Clothie, my separate five acre croft, to run around while I pottered about in full anti-midge gear.  They were in a terrible biting mood (the midges, not the dogs).

The grass is now very long and there is an abundance of wild flowers everywhere.  Clothie is my Icelandic horses’ winter grazing and is perfect for them offering lots of space, food and shelter in the harsh Shetland winter.

In six months’ time, it will be the end of January.  That gave me a shock when I said it out loud.

The cotton-grass is just about over and is draped over every plant like small stringy white ghosts.

The purple Devil’s-bit scabious is a favourite of mine and everywhere.

But, meanwhile, in duck world I am really swithering between letting Family Duck out so they can get some exercise.

The ducklings are big and robust but still an edible portion for some so I am just not sure.  I feel mean for restricting them but also know it is the only way I can ensure their safety. I don’t think Pepper would eat them but I just can’t be sure.  These days, she is quite the keen little hunter with no remorse.

I also think I have a boy and a girl duckling but we shall see……

Everyone woolly is suffering in this heat – 17℃ which is hot by Shetland standards. When I returned from Turriefield, I opened their field gate and they all came galloping out looking for some shade to sit in and maybe even a breeze, out of the way of the flies and midges.

I don’t blame them. When I took these photos after lunch, I was wandering around with a midge-net on as well.  The midges, again in sheltered places, are evil.

Some of the sheep were basking in the sun and soaking up the rays.  I am sure it feels good on their old joints.

But I am not that sheep and, like Lambie, Bert and Barrel, I prefer the shade and a nice cool breeze.  This lot have been sitting there all afternoon refusing to move, all except for Barrel who raced round to eat the duck food, which he heard me putting out for the afternoon.

Pig and he has the hearing of a bat!

Meanwhile some were happily eating and socialising.

Pepper spent her afternoon under the container growling at someone/thing.  She then came inside after a good few hours of hunting to relax and cool down.

I don’t think Ted has moved from the sofa.

Meanwhile, I made sheep (the one on the far left was today’s sheep) and this lot are off to the shop tomorrow.

Onward, ever onward.  And, yes, 17℃ is considered bloomin’ hot for Shetland.

I can’t think of anything to write except I have been plagued by midges all day.  No one else seems to mind and they must be attracted to only me.

I hates them. My day has been spent just trying to stay out of their way.  I can’t think straight when they are biting and it feels like hot needles.

And the thing is, there is a lovely breeze outside but where it is sheltered, the little biting blighters are out in force.

Gah!  I’ve had enough.

(sorry).