I found everyone asleep when I went outside to poo-pick the track after breakfast.  Of course, they all got up when they heard me trying to quietly climb over the fence to take a photo of three “dead” ponies.  They were all fast asleep in a heap.

But up and down the track I went, armed with my rubber gloves and bucket getting rid of the all the last 24 hours’ poo.  I met Waffle who was looking distinctly handsome.  They are used to me doing this so have stopped offering to “help”.

Tiddles was chatting to Pepper – who was on a very short and totally supervised walk as she still limping.

In my pocket, I had a jar of Sudocrem – antiseptic healing barrier cream – which I applied liberally all over Tiddles’ little pink nosey.

The sun has finally made an appearance, which is lovely.

Putting on the Sudocrem made me think so much of Storm. Usually he would be on my list to have sunscreen as he had a very pink nosey that would quickly burn.

But Tiddles’ nose is important now and hopefully not burning.

I will carry my pot of barrier cream in my pocket from now on.

This morning, I found the little old ladies asleep in the sunshine together.

When they lived together, this was something they never could do as one pony had to stay awake to alert for potential tigers.

I love seeing Fivla and Vitamin asleep together.  It makes me realise that I made the right choice by putting them in with the other old folk because they don’t have to look after each other anymore and can relax in the sunshine together, which is lovely to see.

Vitamin is 31 years old, while Fivla is 29.

The other thing I like is that Dahlia and Gussie spend a lot of time around the Old Ladies.  They like them and they trust them.

Lambie and his friends do not like Shetland ponies but that is because of there is history of ponies chasing Lambie when he was a wee lamb. He does not forgive or forget.  Ever.

Anywho, Dahlia does not know this and she wants to be around Fivla and Vitamin.

As does Gussie.  He learns from his mother who is very accepting and trusting, which is surprising for a wild hill sheep.

Dear little sheeps.

And that makes my heart smile too despite what Lambie says.  Lambie is an idiot, though.

It was a lovely day.  Blue sky and the sun shining. I needed to go to town for an appointment anyway but I also did some messages first.

I filled up my field at Jamieson’s Knitwear, which was looking a bit empty.  They took everything I had made so that was good but now the rush is on to try and keep up with potential buyers.

Lerwick was full.  The MS Nieuw Statendam was in port bringing 2,666 visitors.

I admired the huge ship and then wandered along the harbour to see the also newly arrived “Liberation Convoy” consisting of four fishing boats and a submarine chaser – these beautiful vessels had all taken part in the “Shetland Bus” – an incredible rescue operation during the Second World War.

From Wikipedia –

The Shetland Bus (Norwegian Bokmål: Shetlandsbussene) was the nickname of a clandestine special operations group that made a permanent link between Mainland Shetland in Scotland and German-occupied Norway from 1941 until the surrender of Nazi Germany on 8 May 1945. This link transferred agents in and out of Norway and provided them with weapons, radios and other supplies. From mid-1942, the group’s official name was the Norwegian Naval Independent Unit (NNIU). In October 1943, it became an official part of the Royal Norwegian Navy and was renamed the Royal Norwegian Naval Special Unit (RNNSU). The unit was operated initially by a large number of small fishing boats and later augmented by three fast and well-armed submarine chasers – Vigra, Hessa and Hitra.

Crossings were mostly made during the winter under the cover of darkness. This meant the crews and passengers had to endure very heavy North Sea conditions, with no lights and constant risk of discovery by German aircraft or patrol boats. There was also the possibility of being captured whilst carrying out the mission on the Norwegian coast

It was amazing to see this amazing flotilla that had come over to Shetland to commemorate VE Day as well as their special link with Shetland.

(And suddenly the cruise ship looked very out of place.)

A few piccies from today.

Iacs and Haakon in need of a good brush.

They are revolting.

More proof brushing is required (I am almost ashamed) but one word.  Eurovision. So I am holding out until the help arrive.

Fivla determinedly on her way to her breakfast bucket (that is the look of pure determination).

I put the sheep in the big field with the horses and ponies today and turned around to find Barrel being told off by a duck for being in the doorway of the little shed.

That duck (Huey or it is Dewey or Louie?) was furious with Barrel who pretended to be oblivious that he was the actual problem

And then ‘Ster turned up and wanted to stand exactly where Barrel was.  It all got a bit like the elephants’ march in the Jungle Book.

Eventually everyone sorted themselves out and I took the dogs around the fields to look at the beautiful wild primroses that grow everywhere.

It’s a very good year for them.

They are gorgeous and look like mad scrambled egg.

Food buckets for all, wherever they are.

There is a lot of lugging, I can tell you. I find everyone a quiet spot to eat – so important and I can relate to that.

And then, after my well-earned breakfast (porridge, thank you for asking), I go out armed with my bucket and walking stick to poo-pick the track.

Tiddles, of cousre, had designs on my walking stick.  I said no. It is too valuable to lose to his gallumphingness.

As it was a fine morning, I gave myself a rest and sat down on a rock for a chat with anyone who wanted to talk.

My dear little Tiddles was first up.

Silver was busy quickly learning there was nothing but old poo and some rubber gloves in my bucket.  Slim pickings.

And then Albie appeared by my side.

My two little needy boys, who of course I adore.

But Tiddles was not prepared to share his Muzzah.

It’s funny how Newt and Waffle don’t give a damn today.

But everyday is different.

I am always surprised anyone wants to talk to me considering how I refuse them endless food (but never love).

I spent the rest of my morning thinning down the track.  Originally I was much more generous but watching them now, I realise that ship has sailed, left the harbour and probably sunk so I put everything back to the original track of misery and nothingness. Cruel to be kind.

Still, there are lots of blugga-flooers (marsh marigolds) to pick through.  No one ever eats them.

I have no idea why, but they grow everywhere.  Googled – apparently they are poisonous so fair do’s to those who really don’t eat them.