Last night was Tiddles’ first night outside for many, many months.  As it was warm and calm, I thought I would change all the routines.  The old ladies were outside too.  Less work, I stupidly thought.

And this morning, everyone was still alive, which was a plus but the work remained the same as no was very cooperative.

Once done, I drove over to plant seeds at Turriefield.  Here are some I prepared earlier!

Later this afternoon, I went down with my poo-picking bucket to clean up the track and then told the Shetland ponies to “GO TO BED!”

They didn’t believe me.

And galloped up and down the hills with me following like a Dalek who doesn’t do stairs. I was very slow.

I walk with a stick now because the mud is so slippery up the side of the hills.

Four times, yes four, they ran back giggling, bucking and farting with absolutely not intention of going to bed until OH arrived and manned the top gate, while I stayed at the bottom of the last hill threatening with my walking stick all manner of awful things.  Apparently OH had decided to help when he could hear my cursing from the house!

Anyway, the ponies are all in their grotty paddock for the night. Newt is cripplingly lame (possible a strain or something – I am not that interested) and I have taken to the bottle telling myself it is five o’clock somewhere!

God, I hate Shetland ponies.  Evil little beings.

Muzzah’s Day (or even Mothering Sunday) was yesterday and last night, late to the party as ever, Lambie almost managed to acknowledge my existence, or possibly the biscuit tin’s existence, by coming up to the front door and demanding to go inside.

He barged his way into the porch and I was grudgingly allowed to hug him in return for the promise of biccies.

Afterwards Lambie left in disgust at such an unnecessary public display of affection.

This morning was different.  I was surprised to find that Lambie had snuck into the big shed to make himself at home with the big hay bale.

While others favour wearing it.

The sheep were following me everywhere.  Ever since Fivla and Vitamin have started going into the big field, most of the sheep now refuse to go in there with them.  Dahlia and Gussie are the exception and I think quite like the old ponies.

What the sheep didn’t realise was that all the Shetland ponies were together eating on the new piece of track and no one was in the big field.  It was lovely to see them like this and it made poo-picking really easy because it was all in one place.

Anyway, I left all the sheep trying to work out where they wanted to go for the day, deciding it was their problem not mine.

And went indoors for my breakfast and to catch up on emails, etc.

I gave up pretty quickly on that idea.

It was a beautiful Spring day.  You could almost hear everyone breathe a huge sigh of relief while they watched the back of winter start to leave.

Today, I have mostly been concentrating my efforts on the electric fence, which the sheep are determined to ignore or destroy – they’ve discovered that the inner field to the track is full of lush grass.  They have no respect for my carefully built fence.

And this is the ponies’ ration of “grass” (and I use that term in its briefest sense) for the following week.

And yet everyone seems to be managing perfectly well on less-than-nothing.  How is that even possible?  The old ladies are long since lost interest in their diet and live in another field during day light hours.

And this is Stourbrough Hill that towers behind my croft – 173 metres high and an ancient place.  A group of Neolithic stone ‘knives’ (4000 – 2500 BC) all measuring about 15 by 10 cm, were found on the surface of peat (now in the Shetland Museum). I find that fascinating and remain ever hopeful we might find something lying around!

Our garden is full of daffodils and my heart is lifted by seeing the beginning of all the colour that will follow.  It has been such a long and difficult winter, you have no idea.

Surprisingly, the boys came in for their haynet at 3 p.m. (which was really 4 as the clocks went forward last night).  I thought it would be a battle.

But the mud is the same as ever and I am pathetically hopeful it will start to dry over the next week and keep going…. away.  Is this it?  Is this the beginning of Spring?  Yes, please.

This morning started well – sunny and calm.  I listened to the birds while the horses were eating their breakfast.

Apparently, I heard a Common Redshank, a Eurasian Skylark and Curlew (I have an app on my phone that tells me this and can differentiate between horse munching and birds singing – clever, eh?)

I sat with Iacs as I needed him to eat his food in peace.  Behind, Haakon was being hassled by Kolka who had finished her bucket first and was on the rampage.

While those two were arguing, Iacs finished up without interruption.

Ever the silly-frilly.

Afterwards, and once everyone else was vaguely where I wanted them to be, I drove over to Monika’s to help her with an injection for a sheep.  This, I can do.

I took Pepper with me in case anyone wanted to go for a dog walk afterwards.  She loves going for a walk somewhere different and she and Harry, the puppy, run and run and run.

Luckily they did and we went for a superb dog walk over the hill in glorious spring sunshine.

Views don’t get much better than this, do they?  In the distance is Sandness Hill which is the highest hill in the West Mainland.  Many moons ago I rode my horse almost to the top. I will never forget that expedition.  The view was incredible and never to be forgotten.

Anywho, it is shitting down outside now and I must get Tiddles and old ladies inside a bit early as the weather is apparently only going to get worse.

I put out the hay at 3 p.m. this afternoon as everyone had come into the paddock because of the vile weather.  I felt sorry for the ponies and gave them an extra haynet, noticing Tiddles and Newt were sheltering in the container – they had the soaked one.

I thought to myself “how sweet, Tiddles and Newt will surely share their haynet nicely”.

Meanwhile the other three were happily tucking into their’s.

As I could only see Tiddles, I went back to see what was happening.

And it was pretty obvious.

Tiddles wouldn’t let Newt near “his” haynet.  To be fair on Tiddles, though, Newt is always the problem and this was revenge.  A dish best served cold.

So I went into the container, moved Tiddles out of the way and Newt shot outside.  I felt I had to explain to him why this had happened. Everyone is very fed up with his horrid behaviour at mealtimes – which is basically backing up and kicking everyone in the teeth – that little bottom is lethal twice a day *** sigh ***.

I left Newt thinking about his behaviour.  Maybe he will change though I doubt it.

Luckily the others were in a more generous and forgiving mood.

And Newt soon got to eat his hay.

The thing is, Tiddles doesn’t even eat his meals with Newt so he probably did it on behalf of everyone else!