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!

The wind is back with sporadic rain or hail.  This morning, it was white outside with joined-up hail but it had melted by the time we went over to Leradale to feed the ponies.

I think we are all rather fed up with winter now and I am sorry if I sound like a perpetual whining weather forecast but this weather is very eroding and makes hard work of everything.

Every day, the little ones come up for their daily carrot and hug and I just have to keep telling myself that they are doing very well.

There field is enormous with plenty of rough grazing around.  I also tell myself that they are native Shetland ponies who are perfectly capable of finding it as well as doing very well on it.

The Shetland ponies here are fat with room to lose more weight – all of them – so to feed them hard feed like we do their Icelandic neighbours (mares and foals) would be a mistake, leading to health problems, so not a good idea.

I just have to keep telling myself this over and over again and I am finding it very difficult this time of year. I always do.

Flute lesson = Tuesday morning – and then on into town to do our messages.

First stop the agricultural feed merchants to get essentials for the horses and sheeple.  Animals first. Always.

Next up, lunch – me? haggis and chips.  This is the view from our lunch table!

We always find a nice spot.  It is important.

There is always an audience.

They play the guilt card.

And sometimes bring their friends but I am used to this behaviour and have learned to ignore it!

While Daisy was finishing her lunch (white pudding and chips), I wandered round the car park taking a few snaps so you can see just how unique and wonderful Lerwick is.

There were a few boats in.

The usual harbour tug.

Some history – Lerwick was first founded in the 17th century as a herring and white fish seaport to trade with the Dutch fishing fleet, though there is evidence of settlement since 1000 BC.

Our newly restored town hall set at the top of the hill.

I love Lerwick’s architecture.

“The name “Lerwick” means bay of clay. The corresponding Norwegian name is Leirvik, leir meaning clay and vik meaning “bay” or “inlet”….. ” from Wikipedia because I do not know these things!

This area is known as The Lodberries – merchants’ wharfs extending out to the sea.  They are the oldest buildings in Lerwick, some dating back to the 18th century.

The salmon-pink building is an old toll-booth, again built in 18th century on the site of an older version.  It is now home of the RNLI shop and station.

The RNLI have a long-standing presence in Lerwick.  This is the Severn Class RNLB Michael & Jane Vernon.

I think, writing this blog, I have learned something today!