I went to town by myself after the morning chores for a much-needed eye appointment at our local opticians.  I’ve been having a few problems with my eyes and was already worried.

The results – some bad news – I’ve been referred as an emergency to the eye clinic at the hospital, either south or here depending on who can give me an appointment first.  I was not very happy and spent most of my day moping around feeling very sorry for myself whilst trying to remember if Mum had had these eye problems too.

Anyway, I finished up doing my messages and came home to do my afternoon/evening chores.

Home instantly made me feel better.  I can get things into perspective here.  ‘Ster understands.

And the wild primroses are really starting to rev up now.

The mud is also drying up too (I even managed to open a very bad gateway with at least a foot of mud without sinking without trace).

So, apart from the eye thing and the usual, life is not too bad.  If I have to go south, then I go south. I need to get this treated asap.

A thought – I wonder if I could take Newt as my seeing-eye pony…… apparently, they are a thing ….. and even if he took me to the nearest cake shop, everyone would think he was very cute (and he could carry my handbag too!)  Win, win.

Yesterday, Mandy and I went into my shed to play our flute duets as per our usual Saturday afternoon routine.

And Pepper came too, which is part of her routine as well.  She doesn’t seem to mind the noise (we tell ourselves that it is “beautiful” music) and usually settles after a chewy treat, going to sleep.

Today, Pepper said she had eaten her treat and now what?

How can I resist that little face, always trying to catch my eye in between making a pot of tea and grinding to a halt (sadly a frequent occurrence) after I get stuck.

But I could see the Other Half was around too (aka Monster).

And, as the weather was perfect (really no one should be indoors), I let Pepper go outside, even though she has form for leaving to go and play with the neighbours.

I decided to trust her and I explained this to her, hoping she was listening and had maybe grown up a little since her last excursion.

And Monster was around to supervise too.

I explained this to him as well, hoping someone was listening to me.

Yes, please.  Listening ears on.

As the afternoon wore on, and the music continued in varying degrees of accuracy (I can’t help but remember Eric Morecombe’s famous phrase – “all the right notes but not necessarily in the right order”), Pepper stayed around finding different spots to sit in.

She likes to watch the world go around, but the urge to join in is sometimes more powerful.  Luckily today was not that day so maybe she did listen.  I remain ever the optimist.

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Every morning I go out with buckets of food for the old horses and ponies.

This is not as simple as it sounds as I have to carry four rather full buckets – one each for Kolka, Iacs and Haakon (they each have different dietary needs)…..

…. plus another for Fivla and Vitamin which I split.

Then I have to stand in between Kolka and Iacs because Kolka will finish her food faster than everyone else and then start picking on Iacs to get his, failing that she marches off to the little ones as they are an easy target.  So I grab Kolka and stop her doing this, letting Iacs finish his food in peace, though today I did catch Haakon thinking about having a go. We had words.

To get to the field, I have to scramble through a difficult gap in the dry-stone wall, with my four buckets trying hard not to fall over in the process or let Kolka grab the wrong one over the wire fence, while simultaneiously not letting Gussie eat them first, which is his only ambition.  Kolka by now is threatening to kick everyone.  Meanwhile Vitamin is running up and down the fence hysterically worried she will be forgotten.  When she gets her food, she wolfs it down in gulps!  Honestly, none of this is easy.

Gussie does not help in any way.  Just want, want, want.

And Dahlia is no saint either.

Later, when I come out of the field clutching my empty buckets, having fended off everyone left, right and centre, I feel like I have been in a rugby match where no one really knows or cares about the rules very much!

After I had sorted out all the animals, including Lambie who was determined to be in exactly the wrong place, I drove into town to find out if all the rims on the horse-van’s wheels were knackered.

It was a morning all about learning and I learned about how find out if steel rims are useless.

The magical process (which I now know) confirmed that all four of mine are completely shot.  The man at the tyre garage was incredibly helpful.

This is not my world but one I am finding out about.  So that’s it.  The four wheels on my wagon are no use.  I need new ones (of course I do. Is this not always the way of my world?), they have been ordered and might arrive next week.

Afterwards, I went to get some hay – four square bales to stuff into the back of my little car instead of one large round bale in the van.  This is what will have to happen in the future until the horse-van is mobile again.

I made a quick stop-off at Jamieson’s Knitwear to re-fill their field.

Lunch on the go (sitting in Tesco’s carpark) and then home to make another sheep.  The cruise-ship season is just starting up.  This will contribute to keeping the horse-van on the road for the hay collection.  I can see the Minions will stay on soaked hay all year.

Imagine my horror to find the probable cause of all my troubles.  I wonder if the van even has brakes now?!

I am not hopeful.

I walked the dogs today and went down to the Shetland ponies’ field to a) count fence posts as I am having wooden ones put in where I built the new track and b) see how everyone was doing.

They’re all doing fine, thank you very much for asking.

Though, I think they all look fatter but I won’t know this for sure until they are weighed.

How the ponies can be fat on virtually nothing remains a mystery to me.

I am now telling myself that all Spring grass is rocket fuel to them.  I was told this by a Shetland pony breeder whose father told her.  So any small blade of “rocket fuel” will not helping their waistlines.

Still, they can all move and spend their day listening for the slightest thing so that they can gallop up and down the hills regularly checking whether I have left some chocolate cake out for them, which I most definitely have not!