I have put myself on 24 hour vague bed-rest so that the steroids can concentrate on their job.  I also didn’t sleep very well last night so am still feeling rather knocked out.  Tomorrow will be better.

So these are the last of the photos from when we had a visitor (a rare sight these days).  After her Minion mauling, we took Willow, the black labrador, to the beach to say sorry.

Willow didn’t seem too scarred by her Shetland pony experience.

She loved the sea and had brought a bally-ball with her.

Being a labrador, she has all the right training for retreiving and she loves water.

We walked along the empty sandy beach enjoying the view.  The haar (cold sea fog) was lurking.

There seem to be much fewer seabirds around this year.

We found a lovely beach sculpture too.  Very clever.

And then home for a well-earned cup of tea.

The Boyzens (‘Bert was with a couple of tarty rogue hill ewes who have got in) were very intrigued by Willow.

I would almost go as far as to say their eyes were on stalks.

I love the way Lambie is utterly bemused.  I forget that they are just used to our little family.   I take it for granted that everyone will just be peaceful.

In the end the horrid flies drove us indoors and Willow was put back in the car in case Monster decided to attack, which has been known. He is not a fan of dogs.

My nursing staff today.  He is like a coiled spring – apparently!

This has predominantly been my view today – my cubicle in the Day Surgery while I wait to go into theatre for my spinal steroid epidural procedure.

It could not come a day too soon – I woke up this morning and could barely walk.  My left leg had given up and I was in agony, the kind of agony where there is no good position to be in.  I only just managed to hobble outside to feed the sheep and hens.  I had no words.

And this is my cup of tea and digestive biccies post-procedure.  All went very well and my left leg came home with me feeling much better so fingers crossed the steroids do their stuff and I can get back to what I consider is a normal life.

While under the needle, I kept myself going by thinking of yesterday – when we took our visitor to meet The Minions.  She did request this. It wasn’t by force.

Our visitor brought her lovely black lab, Willow, into the field with the promise from me that my lot were used to dogs.

Albie was very curious, perhaps too curious, but Willow’s behaviour was exemplary.

So, for Willow’s safety, she was taken out and tied up next to the field.

It was probably for the best.

God alone knows what the Minions would’ve taught a nice young lady.

They might’ve corrupted her innocent soul with their evil ways.

As ever, the Minions were very sweet.

The old ladies watched on.

And we escaped unscathed ready to do battle for another day.

(This afternoon, while I stayed in bed resting, they’ve all had their feet trimmed.  Apparently Newt was the utter worst – 26 whole inches of awful!)

At home, nursing staff are on duty 24/7.

A friend came over for the afternoon so we walked around the fields and we introduced her to our herd.

Kappi and Klængur live in the Fatty Field during the daytime.  They both don’t need anymore grass.

Kæengur wanted to see if Flossie was carrying anything potentially edible.

Then down to the youngsters’ field where the grass is.

There was some hopeful mugging from Dreki.  He has grown huge.

Meanwhile, the old men looked on very unimpressed.

Then over the hill to see the ladies.

They are currently co-habiting with Taktur, our stallion.

At the moment the girls are keeping Taktur very much at hoof’s length.

The ladies don’t care but the poor boy is very unimpressed and misses his fun-loving guys.

As usual BeAnne pootled along with us.

Tomorrow first thing I go to hospital for my epidural steroid injections.  Last time I said never again, but I am in so much agony now (I could barely walk this morning) that I have agreed to it.

The rain has done a little good. We still need much more, though.  The ground is very dry and the grass is not growing nearly well enough.

Having eaten down their field, we moved the ponies to the next door field that has more grass but when we visited we could see they were not happy there. I decided it was because they couldn’t reach the stream.  The banks are too high and the ponies wouldn’t climb down to get to the water.  Every other pony has managed before.  So we opened the gate back to their old field and they all galloped up to their watering place on the same stream and had a long drink.  I felt awful. I should’ve realised.

So now the ponies have two fields.  One to eat and relax in.

And their next door field to get water from.  We have left the gate open.

Yesterday they were in the second field – the one with the grass.

Today, when Floss did the visit, they were all in their old field.

So it is good to know the ponies know what they want and can get it.

So all is well.  Everyone has what they want.

I am entering two fleeces to our local show’s Shetland Wool classes but to do this they have to be presented properly.

A friend came visiting last week and I mentioned my ambitions to her.  She instantly suggested an expert, Harold Moffatt in Aith, who could do this for me.

So, bearing my two fleeces, I drove round to meet Mr Moffatt.

And expert he was too. It was fascinating and I learned a lot.

He showed me his own sheep’s beautiful white fleeces and what the judges look for in the competition.

I then showed him ‘Ster’s katmoget pile of wool.

Although not in the same league as Mr Moffatt’s fleeces, I am hoping we might have some crimp in there.  Though, to be perfectly honest, I am not sure about ‘Bert’s fleece and there was absolutely no point in mentioning Lambie’s “carpet-quality” wool.

Then on my way home, I went via Sandness to look at the ponies.  They were fine.  It had been raining and the ground desperately needs it.

The swimming sheep was around but in a different place this time.

I had never seen her there before.

When she walked out of the loch, I wanted to see just how wet her fleece was.

It was extraordinary – she didn’t seem to mind one bit and wasn’t particularly wet either.

She was a nice sheep and not afraid of me – more of a girl on a mission!