Today was a rare winter day – the wind didn’t blow and everyone made the most of it.

We fed the horses outside happy in the knowledge that buckets would not be blown over and go flying…..

…. and piles of hay would stay intact and eaten rather than be wasted by flying everywhere (that annoys me beyond words).

Anywho, while Floss was lugging the hay about and making nice little piles for the horses to eat after their hard feed, I stayed and made sure everyone stayed with their bucket – no wandering around looking to see if anyone has anything better.

That means you, Bibble.

Some suffer hugely from “restaurant envy”. It is not encouraged.

It was a lovely sunrise and yes, there is another gale on its way and perhaps the threat of snow next *** sigh ***.  This I could do without.

Still, it was pretty while it lasted and Floss and I got a lot done today. Farrier visit.

By the way, anyone want to have a shot at this diary entry?

Aunt Kate is on the Isle of Skye and learning Scottish Gaellic words or phrases.  “I caught a sea-trout! ???Prurta rod??”!

Let me know what Prurta rod is, please.  Many thanks. x

I buy a regular monthly delivery of TurmerAid from The Golden Paste Company for various animals:-

Haakon = stiff in his old age (26yo)
Brá = calms her and her skin
Lambie = arthritis
‘Bert = prone to limping
‘Ster = ditto to the limping
Me = TurmOil (hooman version – for ye olde stiffe joints!)

Yes, we are very much part of #TeamTurmeric for The Golden Paste Company and Lambie is an excellent Brand Ambassador, but I only enthuse about things I truly believe in for myself and/or my animals and these products help us all hugely and certainly changed our lives.

So, in December, I didn’t bother opening the regular posted cardboard box from The Golden Paste Company because I already had a tub of TurmerAid to finish up. This time of year, I live by the motto “one and a spare”.

Imagine my surprise when I opened the box to find, as well as the ordered carton, a Christmas stocking for BeAnne!

No one ever send us presents.  Well, not companies.

Many years ago, I tried BeAnne on turmeric but she was less than enthusiastic so I didn’t persevere and, at the time, she was bouncy enough.

But my darling little girl is an old lady now (13 years old) and has definitely slowed up.

At lunchtime, I tried her out on a few pieces of TurmerEase.

There was much enthusiasm.  Monster liked the idea but left his pieces. Her Maj quickly snaffled them up.

I also opened the Cobbydog Fish Supper for them to sample and they both loved that.

I will keep this for later.

And the Christmas Tree?  Well, BeAnne spent her day wandering about with it in her mouth gently squeaking to herself.

The stocking was a huge success and thank you very much to The Golden Paste Company for thinking of the other members of my family.

I have ordered more TurmerEase.  She needs it.

Oh yes, and ‘scuse my kitchen floor – it needs a re-paint.

I knew something was up with ‘Bert the minute he started coming up to talk to me.  He is not that kind of chap.  Yes, he is friendly enough but not really one to seek out my company, unlike others.

And I noticed, while I was stroking him, that one of his horns was about to go into the side of his head.  Such a crappy design for nature, if you ask me, and I knew I had to take immediate action.

So first I dosed ‘Bert up with TurmerAid – I think it is very good for calming and, striking while the iron was hot, so to speak, I lured the three sheep into the stable. ‘Bert was easily caught (a trusting boy) and, with the help of Flossie keeping him still, I managed to lop off an inch of potentially life-threatening horn with hoof-clippers. Poor ‘Bert – he bled for a while and I kept them all around (no gallivanting in the hill for a few days) so I could keep an eye.

‘Ster is lucky. His horns grow the right way.  He has never had any problems with them and he looks glorious.

Lambie’s horns just grow to a maximum of 1″ (of which he is very proud) and then he has an argument with a chair or a plant and then they fall off and then I spray him with turquoise spray.  It is an annual event.

However, I was slightly worried about ‘Bert afterwards – there was blood and I was praying I hadn’t nicked him but I was pretty sure it was just the remains of his horn. Horns always bleed copiously.

Anyway today, ‘Bert is fine and much happier.  Hopefully we won’t have to do that again for a while.

Meanwhile, Lambie…… well, I’ll just leave this here!

In the light of yesterday’s shenanigans, Flossie and I went over to Leradale armed to the teeth with as much rope as we could carry.

I wanted the sort of rope you could tie the QE2 up but in the end opted for variety including some rather tough thinner stuff.

Anyway, with Floss on one side of the fence/gate and me on the other, we “wove” our Shetland-pony-proof fence.

Obviously we were watched and thoroughly disapproved of but, no, I am adamant, we are not going to have a repeat performance of yesterday.

Note the orange rope – that’s known as “belt and braces” fencing because, although there is a perfectly good metal post that holds the two hurdles together, it could, by the right little pony (** cough ** Albie ** cough **), be taken out.  Not anymore it won’t.

We had two gates to “fix” and by golly they are going nowhere now. In fact when it comes to moving this lot to fresher pastures, I will probably have to bring a big knife to cut the gates open!

Six small Minions were very unimpressed.

Good!

So, Floss and I were driving over to Leradale. The access track goes around part of the Icelandic horse ladies’ field and I notice a field full of horses!  There are only supposed to be three.

After more looking, we summised that the Minions had managed to get into the Icelandic horses’ field and more, extraordinarily, they were all still alive!  Hetja has a pathological hatred of Shetland ponies in her field.

The Icelandic ladies instantly rushed up to tell me about the small hairy invaders and so I diverted them by quickly putting out their feed. Meanwhile Floss led the Minions out of the field by waving her bag of carrots and walking quickly back to their field.  They followed.

Interestingly enough, apart from 6 minions, Vitamin and Fivla (the old Shetland pony ladies) did not follow.  They know better than to incur the wrath of Hetja.

Leaving the big ones with their food, I pushed the stragglers (Waffle and Albie) back through the very obvious escape route.

We shut it and retied the fence, vowing to return tomorrow with some industrial rope.

And then Floss and I sat on a dry-ish rock each and proceeded to read The Riot Act.

Of course the Minions listened and took it all in.

We thought they probably hadn’t been in the wrong field for very long as they looked unscathed (Hetja’s teeth) and not particularly sweaty (being chased by Hetja – she does not give up).

I am glad Vitamin and Fivla had the sense to stay out.  They are old ladies and would’ve hated all the hassle.

I hope The Riot Act was duly understood and taken on board.

I have a horrible feeling I know who the perpetrator was……

Anyway, no one seems the worst for this unexpected introduction.

I also think a certain Sóley-the-Foalie would’ve loved some new toys to play with but Mummy said no!