A bit of my family history now.

Robert Faraday was the younger brother of Michael Faraday (you may have heard of him – a renowned English physicist and chemist).

His younger brother, Robert was a brass founder and gas engineer.  He is my Great Great Great  Grandfather.

Since working on my Great Great Aunt Kate’s diaries, I have been having a lovely time catching glimpses of their lives. It is all fascinating.  I have reached 1925 now.

Harold Faraday (son of Robert) was my Great Great Grandmother’s brother.  He worked at Faraday & Son, his grandfather’s firm – Faraday & Son – in the 1900’s

I have been watching Ebay and recently purchased two Pullman lights (apparently patented by Faraday & Son) – they were used on train tables in the Pullman coaches – a mainline luxury railway service.

I approached a friend, a qualified and obviously very talented electrician, and asked him if he could rewire them up to modern safety standards and, if I bought a lampshade, could he fit that as well. He said he could so off I shopped…..

And the results are well, quite frankly, awesome (and I don’t use that word lightly).

The first lamp is brass and has a beautiful “Liberty print” lampshade keeping in date with the era.

The second is silver metal and very different.

The lampshade was off Ebay. I asked the seller to show me a picture of it lit up from inside, so he refused and blocked me!  Seriously. As I wanted the lampshade more than I needed a friend, I asked Daisy to buy it on my behalf.  It was worth it.  Stuff the seller, he learnt nothing!

Lit up, the lamp is spectacular.  Like the moon.

I am utterly in love with both of my lamps and it is wonderful that once upon a time they were in the shop of my great great great uncle whose shop my great great aunt frequently visited.

And huge thanks to my electrician who made this dream a reality with his sympathetic choices of cable, switches and plugs.  Utterly perfect.

I went to check the Minions, as per usual, but this time I took a brush with me.  I had noticed, when we were trimming hooves the other day, that forelocks were looking greasy and knotted (it is the old undercoat fuzz making birdsnests).  Not pretty and very tatty.

The Scruffy Herberts

Silver

Fivla

Vitamin

Storm

Tiddles (he looks like a lampshade! – I’ve no idea why)

Albie

Waffle

Newt

I brushed whoever stayed around (I think only Tiddles escaped my  ministrations).

The Beautiful People

Fivla

Newt

Waffle – who went more than a little bouffant!  Oops

Storm

Albie (who now looks like he had a “bowl” cut!

With the inevitable argument, thank you Silver and Storm.

No one looked that impressed with my hard work!

Maybe I won’t bring my brush again, for a while…. but then there is Tiddles still to do.

The midges were bad today. Very bad.  No one wanted to be outside.  The horses and sheep were fractious and we were all suffering.

But Lambie suffered the most.  I don’t know why but he does so I asked him if he wanted to come inside.

(OH was at work so please say nothing!)

The girls were eating breakfast when Lambie walked in.  Daisy gave him ginger biccies and Flossie parted with a piece of crumpet spread with Marmite.  Lambie was very happy.  He likes everyone else’s breakfast.

I was in the kitchen so he popped his head round the door!  “Hi, Lambie”, I said.

Monster was not impressed (possibly working for OH, who would not approve either).

Lambie did a spot of investigating everything and wandering around.  Meanwhile, I limited access.

To get Lambie to settle, I sat down on the floor with him and put on the radio. Lambie is a keen aficionado of classical music so I found Classic FM (we can only get this through the tv).

And he quickly found his spot and sat down.

I could see he was tired. Those midges are exhausting and unforgiving.

Although Lambie is sort of house-trained, I had a couple of puppy pee-pads ready just in case. I can usually read the signs, though, and he does ask to go out if he wants to go out.  A Muzzah knows.

And then Lambie got a mention on Classic FM – ok, so it wasn’t actually five minutes of fame – more like 1 minute 8 seconds of fame but we take what we can get!  So proud *** sniff ***.

This morning, I managed to drive Flossie to an appointment in Lerwick.  My car is automatic so I don’t use my left leg at all. This means I can drive safely.

Lerwick was busy and that was good to see.  While Floss was busy, I wandered up and down the main street – Commercial Street.

There have been some changes recently – including various art installations and these two murals painted by Gavin Renshaw.

There was also a splendid lighthouse sculpture at Victoria Pier which, according to the blurb, is “based on Fair Isle knitting patterns (and) has been installed as part of an art trail raising funds to fight cancer.” It is also takes inspiration from the colours of the Shetland flag.

A quick nip into Jamieson’s to see how the sheeple were doing.  All selling well.  I must keep making more.

More wandering around.

And then I saw my favourite boat – The Swan – moored in the harbour so I went over to admire her.

She is flying the Shetland flag – so now you can see where the colours of the lighthouse sculpture are taken from.

Once all our messages were done, Floss and I reunited, I drove swiftly home, dumped the shopping, collected Daisy and checked the Minions. We decided to open the gate into the next field and they were all, to a pony, very happy with our decision.

Waffle strolled along at the back.

Phew! That was a long day.  I’m glad I can drive now, though.

I am trying to work every afternoon in my shed making little sheeple to sell in Lerwick.  Harrel has discovered that this is where I can be found.

So he comes in and then I boot him out as he always aims straight for the graptopetulum plants.  He loves them and I am not sure if they are poisonous to small black Shetland sheep.

Edited to say they are not – I’ve looked them up but even so, Harrel does not need to eat my plants.

He pretends to be interested and just happening to be in the area. I am not fooled.

“Harrel, out means out!”

This morning I found a not-so-small black woolly bottom sticking out from under the horsevan.

Upon closer inspection, I discovered its identity.

Harrel, although wide, can even stand up under there.  It is lucky he is black.  He would look filthy otherwise.

And guess who is back looking like a pathetic and little lost lamb.

“No, Harrel. Go away.  Go find the others.”

And this is Harrel’s look of pure determination.  I told him his mother was looking for him so he quickly turned tail and left.  Even Harrel doesn’t mess with Maggie. He’s not that stupid.

My plants are safe for another day.