I took these photos yesterday in our garden to make the most of the flowers that were trying so hard.

Storm Jorge is on its way so I am not holding my breath that there will be anything left afterwards.  This might be our only glimpse of Spring.

Apparently the storm has been classed as a “Weather Bomb”, which does not bode well.

I have now looked this meteological terminlogy (or is it slang?) up and it means, apparently, two month’s worth of rain!

I could do without this.  At the storm’s worst (11.20), I will be at the Vet with BeAnne who is not herself at the moment.  Her symptoms are she is not eating with her usual enthusiasm and drinking more (my OH noticed – I hadn’t).  Something may be going on.  We went for a walk on the hill this morning to see if it would cheer her up a bit.  She bounced along happily so I just don’t know.

Anyway, I am worrying and totally overthinking this now.  Her Maj is 14 and she has to live forever.  She knows that.

Because that’s just how it feels these days.

I can’t think of anything scintillating to write today.  I’m sorry, but there it is.

I drove into town to get some hay having totally short-changed everyone by throwing food at all things equine and ovine, quickly checking they had four legs, a head and a tail and that everything was vaguely working alright.

There was no time to sit down and chat.

But everyone got their special dietary needs catered for.

Fivla is now on TurmerAid which has perked her up remarkably.  She trots over at the site of Lambie’s food bowl.

I hate days like this when it is all a rush and just a brief peck on the nose.

The Minions were particularly unimpressed with us, I think.

They love a good chat.

Something, sorry, I mean someone, they can get their teeth into!

But they have the world (ie a large field), and they are all looking superb.  Waffle is a bit too superb but there is not a lot I can do about that.

The old ladies – Vitamin and Fivla – are a nice weight and have wintered very well.  On my travels today, I bought the Minions some wormer so that is next on my to-do list.

Sorry for the utterly boring blog. It has been a day of rushing though I did manage to also buy 16 bales of hay ready for the next weather onslaught.

To “be Newted” is actually a real phrase in our language.

Newt may be tiny – even mi-nute (I haven’t measured him for ages).  He is probably around the 27″ mark.  Next time I have the measuring stick about me, I will see if he has grown recently.  Outwards definitely but probably not upwards.

Newt is a darling boy despite his lack of stature, none-the-less,

He is a much loved member of our little rescue community (actually, they all are).

He is interested in everyone.

And everything!  He loves a good glove and has been known to rush off with one in his mouth if you leave them anywhere.

I adore this expression.

His best trick is to sneak up on you from behind when you are freezing your butt off sitting on a rock to give you a kiss.

So that’s our scruffy little Newt.  A total darling of yak-ness this winter.

Every home should have one!

The wind has finally stopped blowing and the rain has abated too.  Bliss.

So Floss and I went for a walk.  We took Haakon…..

Iacs (do him good)…..

Klængur, BeAnne, ‘Bert, ‘Ster and Lambie. I think that was all of us.

The Boyzens were happy to follow after us.

Haakon, of course, led the way.

(I love this photo! – my two preciousnesses ❤️ together)

Sometimes we had to wait for the stragglers.  I think someone had recently gritted the road and sheep love the taste of whatever they put down).

And on we forged ….

… with occasional breaks for thistle-eating.

So important. I am sure they are good horses.  They seem to love them and search them out, even the old dried flower heads.

And then we all turned round and went home again.

BeAnne kept the stragglers motivated. Sort of.

It was lovely going out with Haakon.  I have missed this so much.

Sometimes we let Haakon and Iacs do their own thing……

Though, on retrospect, I am not sure if that was wise! It all went a bit Jungle Book elephants.

However, everyone was surprisingly good about not treading on BeAnne, which seemed to be her main aim throughout most of the walk.

At the end we diverted into the hill and put the boys back into their regular field, Clothie.

What a perfect way to spend the afternoon.  Lovely.