The other morning I was up and at ’em first thing.  I needed to take off Haakon’s rug that he had needed the night before.  The weather forecast was looking good, so the rug had to go.

The boys were all on the other side of the burn so, rather than walk all the way round, I jumped the burn at its’ narrowest point trying to hang onto a rather surprised and unhelpful Taktur.  Haakon would’ve known what to do – stand still while I heaved myself over using his mane and neck for stability.

There was definite mooching around on the side of the hill.

They did their usual “pleased to see you” and “have you got a carrot, by any chance” faces.

Iacs was having an away day by himself.  He does this.  He reminds me of Eeyore.

“We can’t all and some of us don’t. That’s all there is to it.”

A.A. Milne

It was good to see Haakon and Kappi with the youngsters.  I hope they are teaching them a thing or two.

When I walked off with Haakon’s rug, naturally I was followed.

The youngsters quickly overtook me, winding each other up while they played and trotted past.

Iacs decided he didn’t want to be left on his own and appeared over the horizon.

It was a beautiful morning to be in the horses’ field.

A lovely way to start the morning.

Monster rules the house. He decided this the minute he arrived.  Anyone who visits with a dog is told this very important Rule of the House.

This is poor Otto learning just how it is and how it will be when he was visiting the other day with his owner.

Otto has been known to chase cats, allegedly.  Monster, just by being himself, let it be known that this would not happen, not now, not ever and Otto believed him.  There was never any doubt.  There were a lot of mind games that morning.

But you’ve gotta love Monster.  It is probably the Law.

He spends his day either out and about with us or asleep in the house.  Today, he came to our indoor manège for a spot of exploring.

BeAnne and Monster are very relaxed and genuinely like each other.  I am glad BeAnne is happy again.  It has taken a while since the demise of Loki and Wussums and although we all miss them hugely, Monster has more than filled the gap.

(For me, Monster’s pinnacle of perfection is that he even widdles in the muckheap – I mean how clever is that!?)

So I think we can safely say that Monster is settled and we all live in his house according to his rules.

First there is the tacking up thing.  Stuff gets swapped around and we all have our favourite stirrups, reins, gel pads etc that we “borrow” from each other.

Haakon then leaves the tacking up area to stand in the furthest corner of the shed.  He has done this for as long as I can remember.  He just has to. It’s his thing.  He never rolls or does anything, just walks as far away from me as possible.  Most odd.  Is it something I said?

Floss got on Klængur in the school and I sorted out her stirrups and we had the usual “is my saddle wonky?” situation.

I followed happily along on Haakon.  These days, he is much fitter for being ridden three times a week.

Though, when we got to the canter track, he just stopped and so no, he didn’t think so, thank you very much.  So while we waited for Floss/Klængur to go flinging up and down, I fed Haakon a carrot and admired his whacky hairstyles in the wind while he enjoyed the view and probably the carrot.

We all went a little bit further on our ride and then turned round refusing to let anyone bugger off at a hundred miles an hour.  Haakon invented a new Icelandic gait – mince.  Klængur calmly walked on a long rein while we minced along behind, happily bickering all the way home.

Someone small, furry and a bit smelly was waiting for us when we got home.

All most enjoyable.

The Boyzenberries have taken to stopping out for the night with their hill friends.  They think home is just a convenient cafeteria.

This morning all three were waiting by the gate to come home, conveniently in time for breakfast.

But I noticed a certain flekkit (black and white) Lambie had blood on the top of his head.  He is missing one of his horns.  He had his full, if tiny, set yesterday.  Ok, his horns were nothing to write home about but they were symmetrical and there were two of them.

So we had the usual battle with the turquoise antibiotic spray, which is my first aid fallback position.  I secretly managed two squirts and it looks a bit random but I am hoping it hit the spot.  Of course the minute Lambie knew I wanted him, he was off and refused to cooperate in any way.  Typical.

Everyone else was available – just not Lambie.

I could’ve decorated ‘Bert and ‘Ster in turquoise spray.

I will see what like tomorrow and, if necessary, get Lambie in a headlock to do my medical ministrations.  We don’t have flies around and this injury is fairly regular with Lambie.  As long as it does not become infected, I am not too concerned and Lambie will just have to learn to look lopsided.

Tonight the Boyzens have all been grounded so of course anyone who goes near the gate to the hill is followed and they are trying to make a bid for freedom.  It must be the time of year.

Most mornings in Shetland at the moment are pretty spectacular.  This is today’s offering.  Not bad.

A courier had arrived with some cut-price wormers (on the to-do list) plus a field mineral lick which I had bought for the girls.

As they are hopefully pregnant (Brá and Hetja) and/or growing (Lilja), I thought it was a good idea if they had a lick that was not chock-full of molasses but would be something they could munch on if they wanted to.

It was nice to see that Lilja is now allowed to be her mother’s daughter and not the social outcast she was when she first arrived.

The ladies were all very polite and took it in turns or at least Hetja generously let the others have a shot at the lick too.

After checking everyone was ok and no fights were breaking out, I climbed over my fence and walked down to another field to see the Minions.

I put my coat down on the damp ground and sat on it whereupon I was instantly surrounded.

I haven’t see my little ones for ages and I have missed them hugely.

I would like to secretly think they missed me too.

Or at least my coat, which is perhaps now not as lovely as it once was.