I haven’t seen the Minions for a while.  They are spending their days on the far side of the track where their latest new grassy bit is.

However, I check on them twice daily – when OH poo-picks in the morning and I have a swift go around in the evening.  And if I am not sure, I take a photo from the house which I can enlarge to count ponies with.

And then I know they are alright (Tiddles is having a roll, not dying).

So it was a nice surprise to see the chaps this afternoon up by their feed bowls when I emerged from my sheep-making shed. They’ve not been up since Sunday.

So I gave them their breakfast (nine hours late), which they were very happy to eat.

And, as quickly as they arrived, they vanished again to another corner of their track.

So me, my bucket and gloves walked their track picking up poo when I got the sense that I was being followed….

Note:Tiddles’ spook at the bucket! Silly boy.

Waffle was already waiting for them at the bottom (and I have no idea when he got passed me – perhaps he flew) and I left them eating the grass in between the marsh marigolds.  It was good to see them move so well and I am even hoping they are losing weight.

A strong south-westerley breeze all day brought temperatures right down along with fierce sporadic rain showers.  Not nice. It is cold and wet again.

We all miss the sun.  I can tell.  Haakon and I agreed on this.

So when I went back later to let Dahlia and Gussie back into their field, I was surprised to see absolutely no one was using their newly mucked out shed.  It fits two comfortably and, although cozy, serves a useful purpose.  Nope, apparently sheds are for wusses and no one wanted to admit they were a wuss, even Fivla!

So I tried and now I give up.  Ungrateful lot.

(sorry this is short but I’m knee deep in making sheep as fast as possible and I haven’t really got much to say, which makes a change).

The weather changed.  I can attest to that as I stood in the pouring rain with Pepper watching the horses and ponies eat feeling wet and miserable.  I do wonder why I do this.  Could someone remind me, please.

It hasn’t rained in Shetland for a month and I was beginning to get used to a dry existence.  It was a lovely change. The mud had dried up everywhere and I had put much of my winter wardrobe into storage.

Stupid, stupid me.  As I write, I am looking at three coats, three pairs of over-trousers and varied shirts and jeans drying in the kitchen.  I have officially run out of dry or clean clothes.

The old ladies took the little shed but actually didn’t stay there very long.   They had gone by the time I went round to muck out.

This lot had taken up residence in their container (with haynets) but came out when they spied me doing the Sunday extension of their track.

It was a case of weather vs. new grass.  The new grass won, of course and they came cantering round to eat.

I spent my afternoon in my shed adding to the collection, ready to go to Jamieson’s Knitwear, in Lerwick.

And, as ever, I had a friend.  Wherever I’ve gone, Pepper has come too. She is not deterred by bad weather because it is her job to be with me.

“Good luck with that”, I said to Vitamin as she approached Fivla to help her finish her morning bucket.  I thought she would’ve known better.

But she ignored me and had a good try.

But Fivla was having none of it and stuck to her guns (breakfast) eating it as fast as she could.    Fivla is a slow eater so a bit of competition is a good thing.  Vitamin got nothing despite her best efforts.  And as I said to Vitamin, “it’s always good to have a hobby!”

Later on, it started to rain and all the sheep wanted to come in as apparently sheep melt in rain.  Who knew?  So I let them out of their field, and left them to it while I went to play flute duets with Mandy, like we do every Saturday afternoon.

While we were playing, Madge appeared, listened and then plonked herself down as our solo sheep audience.

She didn’t move until we finished, and apparently just wanted to listen to us massacre Mozart, which of course we duly did.  And not too shoddily, I would add.

Dear Madge. I never had her down as a Mozart fluet duet kind of sheep.

But now I know differently.

A funny old world really.  Well, especially mine.

The sheep are fed in the morning in their shed with the door shut so they are in a routine where I can catch whoever and do stuff if I need to. Shearing will be soon so I try and keep this going all year round. There is nothing worse than unhelpful sheep.

The sheep stay in their shed while I feed all the horses and then I go back in to let them out but Edna has her second breakfast by herself because she is old and she loves soaked sugarbeet that she doesn’t have to fight anyone for.

‘Ster has also taken to a bowl for himself too, then ‘Bert wanted some and then Maggie. My theory is that if they ask for this, then why not.  Bert and Ster are old and Maggie was looking a bit scrawny this winter.  It also uses up any unfinished sugarbeat that I had for the horses.  My portion control is fairly random.

Today, somehow, the sheep managed to let themselves out of their shed after their breakfast and I found them wandering around looking a bit confused because their routine had changed – their fault.  Harrel was having an argument with Gussie who was happily winding him up.

I gave ‘Ster his bowl.

Maggie asked nicely and got some too.

And I also put out beet for Edna and Bert who were expecting to be catered for.  Only the best waitress service here.

And while I putting the sheep back into the field, I found these two together.  I took a photo as they looked so pretty.

Anyone want an album cover or two?

Oh yes, and the orchids are beginning to appear.  Beautiful colours everywhere soon.