It was such a nice day, yesterday, that I took a camera with me when I went to check on the two herds of horses and ponies that live away from home.

Leradale is left alone for half the year so it can become the perfect grazing for the Icelandic lady herd and the Minion herd in the winter months.  I don’t worry about them and wandering around Leradale in the Shetland winter sunshine is a lovely way to spend the afternoon.

In the upper field, where the Icelandic ladies are, is an old derelict crofthouse.

I would truly love to live here – the house obviously needs doing up but it is a secret dream of mine.  One day.

After doing the necessary checks, hugging and dishing out of carrots, BeAnne and I set off for our walk around the croft.  It is always good to check the boundaries.

I feel truly happy and relaxed when I am at Leradale.  It feels like home.

I try to imagine how the Neolithic folk lived, what they did and how they felt. You can feel their existence, like they are on the edge of your eyesight, if that makes sense.

Nothing had been disturbed.  Everything was still the same.

As BeAnne and I wended our way back to the car, the Shetlands spotted us.

As did Lilja.

The Gods smiled when I bought Leradale.  It is my happy place.

Today was much better weather-wise than the past few days.  This is what I saw when I opened the front door after lunch.

A rare glimpse of the sun with Klængur and BeAnne.

Haakon was nearby stuffing his face while trying to look optimistic.

Floss and I had been riding earlier in the morning – it was fabulous – and we had left our horses around the house as we were moving them all to the back field later in the day.

There was a lovely light and I really enjoy having the boys around ( and yes, I would let them into the house if I could get away with it). 

While they were grazing, I popped over to Leradale to check the other two herds and BeAnne volunteered to come along too which hasn’t happened for a while.  So, for her reward, I took her for a walk (and she took herself for a swim) around the croft – pics tomorrow.

Home again, horses moved and I went to sit outside to watch the sun go down with my Boyzenberries.

They may have mostly seen the error of their ways, though Lambie is in a terrible sulk. It is not being indulged.

I sat on a very cold rock surrounded by ‘Bert and ‘Ster who were very chatty and we watched the sunset together.

‘Ster and I took selfies.  I think we make a very handsome couple.  ‘Ster loves a camera.

We woke up this morning to another gale.  *** sigh ***

My only consolation is that it is not freezing cold and it was not raining…… yet.

I shouted for Haakon (ancient gelding who lost much weight last winter) and Taktur (stallion in work) to bring them in to feed.  They have a daily breakfast tailored to their individual requirements.

BeAnne, funnily enough is always on hand to vacuum up anything dropped.

Taktur at least looks fairly embarrassed that his best and only friend is a small greedy Patterdale terrier that has no shame.

Haakon is very enthusiastic about this feeding regimen.

After the boys have finished eating, we rugged them up as rain was forecast later, to go with the wind.   That’s nice (not).

I am glad we rugged these two up. It is now not nice out there (I am writing the blog late afternoon).

Meanwhie the Boyzenberries have a new slogan – Free the Three!  Pah.  Like that is going to happy any day soon.  Their life now consists of living in a field during the day and then being allowed out to go round the house at night.  If they want breakfast, they have to go into the field.  So far, this is working and it means people/cars can come and go during the daytime without the worry of anyone running away into the hill.

When I let them out in the evening, they get carrots and ginger biscuits as a reward for spending the day in a field full of green grass!  I think I am a mug.

Monster is pretty much settled here now.  He has us all very well trained.  Monster wants to be fed every minute. He is also a liar.  He even has a bowl on a timer that flips open at 05:00 to stop him pestering OH for food all night.  This mostly works although there was one day when the lid did not flip open and it was his WORST DAY EVER! 

Monster also worships at the Temple of the Fridge.

And addresses many prayers to it.

When not praying or worshipping, Monster Cat has taken a liking to BeAnne’s bed – her special bed, the one next to mine in which smells only of her and in which no other animal has sat.

Ever.

Until now, that is.

Monster climbed in and professionally went to sleep at BeAnne, much to her rage and fury. She was almost in two minds as to whether she should get out of bed.

But as BeAnne was in bed with me, there was not a lot she could do about this invasion.

Monster then did that irritating thing of looking very happy and comfortable in this new dog-smelly bed.

Even practising his yoga – the ultimate insult.

We’ve had a terrific storm these past few days. The vile weather has been unceasing but at lunchtime today it finally stopped and we all breathed a huge sigh of relief.  We had one casualty – an old wooden garden table is now in its component parts.

I haven’t seen the sheep since my return.  They had galloped off into the hill last week.

So, armed with a visual pink bucket I trudged off into the open hill and was very quickly found by Lambie.

I also brought ginger nuts.

Lambie was happy.  He had his mum (and his bucket) back.

I could not see ‘Bert or ‘Ster anywhere so Lambie and I went further into the scattald to look for them.

Eventually I spied the boys watching me from a great distance.  They had no intention of coming home so I waved my secret weapon – the ginger biccies – and they quickly hurried over.

We walked back to the furthest gate that opens back into my land and I lured them in.

We then walked through my fields –  they all followed rather contritely.

When we got home, I fed everyone their missed breakfast – only one – they ‘re not having a week’s worth off me for leaving home.

Then the whole lot, to a sheep, went and stood by the front gate to go back out into the hill again.  At that stage, now in a fury, I put them into the only field they can’t escape from, now known as “Alcatraz”. The Boyzenberries can think on about their behaviour and I must work out a Cunning Plan to stop them doing this again.  The rams are in the hill and hormones are flying around so that is why my lot want to be out too.

My only consolation is that they came home with lovely hill decorations on their wool.

(I am secretly glad to have my Boyzenberries home).