I was asked how Fivla was doing these days.

Here she is today, in the snow, which was really joined-up hailstones that came in fierce sporadic flurries.

As you can see, Fivla is looking a bit more svelte.  Winter has done what winter is supposed to do – make fat little ponies lose weight!

Here she is just over a year ago (November 2016)

And here she is in her heyday!

I have it on good authority that Fivla’s weight is now “spot on” for the time of year.  Her neck crest has gone and I think (read hope) that she will be easier to manage, health-wise.

So, for the moment, all dieting is off (look at her happy face when I told her!)

It has been a bit of a long-haul, but Fivla has got her trimmer figure back.  She always was bit “broad in the beam” but I am not worried for her health now.  The winter fur does not help her new trim look, but you can feel bones under all that hair and not pads of fat.

As for the others in the herd, they are all fine.  Doing well.

Tiddles’ eye goop is all cleared up.  I haven’t seen them looking that clean for ages.

Vitamin is the boss of everyone and decides where they travel around their field.

Storm is happy annoying everyone and Waffle lets him.

Silver is always a little distant unless I sit down for a minute and then he comes up to chat.

So there we are.  Everyone is looking well and life is good.

That’s all anyone can ask for.

It is Sunday.  We run out of carrots.  It happens.  We get over it!

No, we really do!

After the boys went back out into their grot field to mooch about looking for grass, having eaten a full belly’s-worth of silage all day (oh, how they suffer!), I happened on a few carrots which I duly distributed as fairly as I could.

Everyone came up for a carrot or had a carrot thrown to them.

Some were a bit more cool about it than others!

(cool)

(aww)

Using the Power of The Mind

Slightly less cool (you can see where we’re going here)….

And then there are The Many Faces of Desperation.

And his cousin, “I really want one but then again there is the mud and I can’t be arsed” or Iacs, as he is better known.

I tried calling Iacs up for his carrot but, no, he couldn’t or wouldn’t so, in the spirit of fair play and praying like mad to Karma that I didn’t get stuck in the mud, I went over and gave him his carrot.  That mud is unforgiving and is not dissimilar to the Swamp of Sadness.

Meanwhile, the little ones don’t trouble themselves with petty worries and have a silage pile almost higher than themselves, a lovely shed and some green stuff, if they need.

At least I can sleep at night knowing Iacs got his carrot!  We are now out of carrots. It is official.

While we were putting on our waterproofs this morning, we made a plan of what to do.  Outside was a 50mph gale with -2 windchill factor and horizontal stinging rain.  Our first priority was to get the horses inside.  The gale had started last night some time and so we knew they needed a break – to eat their food in peace, dry out and get some rest.

We called them up and the younger ones came racing while Haakon and Iacs stayed at the bottom refusing to move.

My first thought was that Haakon couldn’t get through the old gateway that he has always walked through (there are rocks from an old rumbled wall) but I really couldn’t get down to them so I called and called while the others vanished into the shed.  Haakon was behaving oddly – he kept trying to lead Iacs on a different route round but Iacs wouldn’t follow and he wouldn’t go through the gateway by himself.  In the end, Haakon bullied Iacs through the gateway and then forced him up the hill, staying behind him and not letting him stop to think (always a dangerous game with Iacs).  Most odd.  He wouldn’t leave Iacs.  They were fine once they reached the school.

We had to split the herd up – Taktur and Kappi together in the stable and the rest in the indoor school.

Lots of little piles of silage everywhere.

Albie and Newt were in their own little paddock and shed with a big pile of silage to themselves.

The sheep were fed in their shed.

They don’t like being inside much and could make their own choices, like nibbling the new cladding, Lambie!

And yes, I shouted at him – can’t you tell?

They had their own fresh pile of silage by the lee-side of the shed.

Meanwhile, Puzzah had decided he was not really into sharing!

The gale was over by lunchtime, so everyone happily went outside again having had a nice morning off!

I gave myself the morning off as I woke up with a stinking migraine.  The girls were wonderful and with my OH completed all the morning chores while Her Maj and I slept off my miserableness.

By lunchtime, I was beginning to feel better so, with nothing much to do as it had all been done (I am lucky), I took myself for a walk.  Fresh air is essential.

It was the usual route – down the road and back. I don’t trust myself in the hill. I have no balance.

The hill sheep congregate close to our croft because they think we will give them silage.

This hill moorit ram especially likes to hang around.

I called him over (yes, I am probably a sheep whisperer) and, like others we have known, he is exceptionally tame.

He even started following me on my walk.  I think the whole family would be furious if I brought another one home.  He also has a perfectly good home and does not need to be another Bozyen.  There is a limit and we have reached that limit and yes, I am telling myself this many times.  It is very wrong to kidnap random sheep off the scattald and it probably comes under the law of sheep rustling, if there is one.

Anywho, on with my walk and you can see just how much water we all have. The ground everywhere is saturated.

I like this walk because the views are always stunning – looking down to the south end of the island.

When I got home, I had a quick sneak round the garden and guess what I found?  The first snowdrops.  Surely a sign winter is thinking about going.

This time of year when horse folk In Shetland (and Scotland) ask you how you are doing this winter, the standard reply is “there is just so much gutter about” and then you both look sadly at the ground and nod in agreement.

And believe me, there is gutter everywhere.

Everyone is heartily fed up of it and it is all I can talk about these days because it is That Time of Year when this and the weather takes up your every waking thought.

There is nothing we can do.  We are doing our very best and it is just one of those things that we always have in winter.

I feel so sorry for the horses.  We are regularly losing horseshoes (and us our wellies) to the stuff.

But some are more resourceful – Klængur has one hoof in the fish box!

It is the two little ones I worry about most but they now spend their nights in their little paddock with a shed so they can get right out of it as well as have some protection.

We take them back to the Big Boy herd, who have come up for their silage, during the day so they can see their friends and Newt can plot their downfall and his world domination.

The others, who are bigger, go back out in the afternoon to a large field where they can mooch about for grass and get of the gutter if they want.

Life still goes on, gutter or not.

Her Maj is not a fan, either and refuses to walk in it!