It’s that time of year – shearing.

I brought the sheep all inside this morning for their breakfast and shut the door!  They knew something was up.

First up was ‘Ster, who behaved, I am ashamed to say, abominably.  Unhelpful wriggling every minute.  Terrible.

Next up was ‘Bert who was better. I trimmed his errant horn and there was blood.

Then it was Lambie who had his “carpet quality” fleece expertly sheared off.

Lambie’s theory was to smile in a winning fashion in the hope it would all be over quickly. Rather like the dentist.

After that, Edna was sheared and she was such a good girl. What a lady.  An example to us all.

And last up was Madge, who wasn’t sheared but was roo’ed instead – just the last bit around her neck.

Everyone was drenched and had their teeth and feet looked at too.  Is it me, or has Lambie got more spots this year?

Finished, they all went outside and the Boyzens had their usual post-shearing arguments. This year it was Lambie being a prat to ‘Bert.

They all look *** cough *** very well *** cough *** (fat, some might say!)

Anyway, I’m glad it’s been done.  Not sure what I shall do with their fleeces. If anyone is interested, please get in touch.  All pure Shetland – moorit, katmoget, flekkit and white.

They seem much happier and cooller too.  Little Missy ran around for a short time shouting for her mother, Edna, who was standing next to her.  She has shut-up now and I saw her having her milk so she’s obviously got the plot again.

So that’s that for another year – the blood is from ‘Bert’s trimmed horn.

Now who’s going to mention the diet to Lambie?  I don’t dare.

Son

Dad

Son

Dad

Son

Bruvvers (Dreki and Efstur) by the same muvver (Brá) – there is a bit of a swallowed-a-button face similarity.  Different dads, though – Taktur and Álfur frá Selfossi.

Half bruv Efstur.

And Dreki’s handsome dad goes off to work.

Dreki is desperate to do something.  His older bruvver, Efstur, tells him all about his training and yesterday even went on a proper grown-up hack (with me riding Iacs).  Dreki wants a job.

The Boyzenberries are all hot and cross. They don’t want to talk much, but just want me to scratch them.

They flop about and sit down a lot.

I don’t blame them.

Which end is which?  It’s hard to tell.

Each Boyzen is carrying around the equivalent of 3kg’s worth of wool.

And ‘Ster maybe 3.5kg.  Poor love.  He is suffering now.

Of course, Lambie’s is “carpet quality” but it still counts as weight and he is still very grumpy.

Grumpy, at the moment, is what he does best.

I am now known as “The Muzzah who scratches itchy sheep”.  It’s my job.

I think the Boyzenberries are all very jealous of the Girlzenberries who are “rooing” their wool and will probably not need shearing.  You can literally just pick the fleece off them or let it drop on its own.

Meanwhile, Little Herself – aka Missy is all happy, happy, happy.  She is definitely happy.

A glass half full kinda sheep.

She also looks very like her mother.  The same piercing eyes and expression of complete relaxation around people.

And then there are her Nuncle Boyzens.

(and yes, I prayed Lambie didn’t bunt her into the stream below – he definitely thought about it!)

And so I have a flock, my own little flock of sheep.  It makes my heart smile.

Well, almost.  There’s always one and that would be Madge.  She has to be different.

Yay, though.

When we led the girls back to the field yesterday, I had a quick chat with the other inhabitants.

Floss had been kind and kept some carrots back for them – Lilja and Sóley had not been allowed to scoff the lot – and she went around distributing fairly.

Everyone has just about lost their winter coat now.

All except Newt and Sóley.  They are revolting, still.

Storm had his summer race-horse body.  He looked very smug.

Poor little Newt.  He hates the clags that are under his leg-pits so I spent a few minutes removing the ones that would easily pull off and promising to come back with sharp scissors to get the others.  He was very grateful and stood patiently for me.  Sóley is less patient and will only stand me taking them off for so long.  I usually brush her.

The orchids are out now.  They grow everywhere.  All over the fields.

A rainy morning, but I gathered the troops and we drove the horse-van over to work with Lilja and Sóley-the-Scruffy.

I especifically wanted Daisy to work with Lilja as the last time I led her it was very obvious her leading skills left a lot to be desired.

We had parked in a quiet place and put two bowls of carrots – one inside and one on the ramp.  Daisy and Lilja walked straight in.

While Sóley considered her options.

She could see Lilja eating her carrots and she could also see her own bowl of carrots but there was this ramp thing to be negotiated …….

Lilja quickly finished her own carrots and then started on Sóley’s bowl!

Oh, how rude!  Sóley could not bear this and worse, Lilja was really enjoying her bowl of carrots!

Oooh, she wanted her carrots and she couldn’t quite reach them and Lilja was going to nom the lot if she didn’t act quickly.

So Sóley took a deep breath and put her front hooves on the van ramp.

Heaps of praise and a top up of more carrots as a reward – and, then there was  even the hint of a back hoof too!

This was just what we wanted and we didn’t ask for anything more from Sóley.

Afterwards, Daisy and Flossie led the girls back to their field, where they live with the Minions (my rescue Shetland ponies).

All the way, Daisy worked with Lilja, asking her to walk nicely and not drag her down the road and field (like she had with me).

And to be fair, Lilja listened and learned to Daisy (and so did I so I can continue her training in the same way).

So that was all good. Mission accomplished.  I am pleased.