Lovely Skies

It’s that time of year when the sky just looks beautiful no matter the weather.

This is the view over Sung loch at the bottom of our track where it meets the single track road (A971), a public highway.

And this is one of the many views of Foula that I see when I drive over to check on the Minions….

…. who are doing very well, thank you for asking.  There are eight of them (I’ve just counted).

And the view on the way home.  Not bad really.  I can’t complain.

It has been threatening rain all day but I find that the actual weather forecast has been lying through it’s teeth and but, despite some intimidating dark clouds, it never rained.

I hate days like this because I specifically got up early this morning to put a waterproof rug on Haakon.  I wonder if the weather forecasters actually know where Shetland is.  And then of course there is that old saying “be careful what you wish for”.

This afternoon has been spent in my shed writing out the next instalment – 1894 -Brussels – Help needed with this diary entry, pretty please.

But as an incentive, Kate learns to ride and I think it might be sidesaddle judging by her sketch.

A Late Afternoon Walk

I left the old men enjoying the quiet windless afternoon resting in the sun.

And took BeAnne out for a walk in the scattald.  She loves the hill so much more than traipsing up and down the boring road with me.

It was still, not very warm, but sunny.

For those of  you now hysterical at the thought of a dog on the hill, BeAnne is honestly not that kind of girl.  Sheep mean nothing to her.  The crofter who owns the hill sheep is also aware that BeAnne is not that kind of dog too. So please do not be alarmed.

Anywho, back with the walk.

The circular enclosures are called planticrubs (From the Shetland Dictionarynoun a small circular dry-stone enclosure for growing cabbage plants. They are sometimes used for sheep and are just called crö then. I am not sure if these are for plants or sheep as, although they are in the hill, they are relatively near my croft.

BeAnne had a lovely time.

And we also met three errant sheeple who were also enjoying their freedom.  I am allowed sheep on the hill.

 

I had let them out earlier in the day to go and find some friends.  Lambie gave me his filthiest look – that of a teenager whose Mum has come to collect him from a party and he doesn’t want to go home.

So I duly ignored them while they disowned me and BeAnne and we went on with our walk.

And then I saw why we were being cast aside.  There were girls!

We saw a few rabbits and a pair of black grouse squawked past.

We did a circular walk – returning through our field where the view is very special – no houses to be seen.

This is the gate at the end of our field which I have sleepless nights about constantly blowing open letting all the horses and ponies out into miles and miles of hill.

Just BeAnne and I, across our large field.

But, of course, little did we know we were being watched.

Always watching.

It was a very special walk. Just me and my wee dug. ❤️

 

Aunt Kate’s Diaries

Well, I have been working hard and made a few decisions.

Aunt Kate’s diaries now have their own separate website and, as I transcribe my little leather suitcase of tiny books, I will put up my results hoping someone might be interested and read them.  There is a link from this website to the diary one and vice versa so it might result in increased traffic, and probably more spam!

Transcribing the diaries and adding them to the website is work-in-progress. As well as learning to decipher Aunt Kate’s teensy-tinesy writing, I am also at the opposite end of this spectrum learning how to use F***ing WordPress (as it is now known in this house). You may be able to sense the hostility in my typing but I spent most of last night fighting with the new ruddy website until a friend came to the rescue!  (❤️ you know who you are, a lifesaver, and a huge thank you ❤️)

Your help is (and has been) invaluable and I shall call on the “hive mind” to solve any writing problems I have.  I am so grateful knowing you are also around to assist, translate and decipher with me.  The task feels less daunting.

I strongly recommend you read the Family History bit as the background is fascinating, though I am again struggling with WordPress and its abilities to randomly place pictures (gah!)

Don’t fret about the animals. Obviously they all come first, as well as any house chores before I even let myself go into my she-shed, sit down with a cup of tea and start typing out the writing.  Did I mention it is tiny?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the new website.  I need to work out how to collate the years for easier navigation and also the footnotes too, which I think are essential.  They worked fine on Office (Word) but if I want them on WP, I have to upgrade my account, pay more….. dammit.

 

The Art of Begging

Here are a few pictures of Monster, for those of you who might be missing him.

   

(He looks quite a heft but that is just neutered cat “widge” – under all that, he is light as a feather, he tells me)

But we luffs our Monster, so that’s all that matters.

Today, he did a surprise rugby tackle/pounce on BeAnne has she wandered past.  She was quite surprised but exacted her revenge by nipping up the stairs to eat Monster’s supper. Revenge is a dish best served cold and it was!

Monster was too busy laughing to himself to notice his food vanishing.  His usual modus operandi is to sit close to his human victim and prod until they get up annoyed to feed him.  OH is usually his target.  He always caves early.  The rest of us are busy with “Faites vos jeux” on how long OH will hold out.

Meanwhile, the Haakon and Iacs are happy with their life together far away from the younger equine generation.  They are in the field near the house.

They slowly mooch about together blagging carrots off me every time I walk past.  I can’t resist.  They just look so hopeful.

And they both have perfected an optimistic face and, like OH, I always cave.

It is lovely having them near the house, too.  My perfect neighbours.

Electric Pole

You can ask a Minion…..

But you can’t tell a Minion.

Their world just doesn’t work like that.

And, for the most part, they are all good little chaps.

That would be all except Storm…..

He was on a mission.

Today, I rasped Vitamin and Fivla’s all four hooves plus Silver’s hinds, spent a little time chatting to anyone who wanted and then it started to spit so I decided to pack up and call it a day.  There is no fun to be had sitting in the rain.  Bloomin’ cold.  I made clicking noises to whoosh everyone away from the fences and told them to “go and get a job”.

Some ponies won’t be told.

Believe me, I shouted at him!

(He’s fine, by the way)


Meanwhile in Diary Land, your last efforts were truly wonderful and inspirational.  That word was most definitely “put” and I think there is a Tennisonian Society in 1894 – Edward was at Cambridge University.

So, now Kate et al are in Brussels staying with Uncle Pierre (Generale de Baermaeker).  Please can you tell me what the bit after “my hat” says.

And the three words in French (I think) – in quotes.

And, lastly, the sentnece that begins “Dinner 6-30,…..” because the word beginning with a capital B is not one I know.   

Many thanks.

I am thinking what to do with this epic.  Does anyone use or know about Patreon?  I wondered whether this would be a good way for folk to read the diaries.  Sort of like publishing it as a book but not going down that route yet. I am not sure.  This is not my world.