On January 1st, Efstur from Thordale was officially two years old (though his real birthday is on the 21st June) but thems are the ways of some breed societies.

A friend was asking how Efstur was doing.

I replied that he is going through his fugly phase.  They all do.

There is an old breederʼs adage, “three days, three weeks, three months, three years.

Also, Efstur is not an easy horse to photograph.

Mostly because he is always “there”, ie at the end of my camera lens.

I don’t think you can really judge conformation (ie, the degree of correctness of a horse’s bone structure, musculature, and its body proportions in relation to each other) just by a close-up of a kissable nosey.

Efstur has put on weight, he is growing all the time but beginning to even out now.  Rugging and extra feed has helped and we will keep going with this throughout winter.

As for temperament, I really can’t fault him.  Efstur has matured so much and nothing is too much to ask.  He is easy, kind and very helpful!  Almost too helpful, if there is such a thing, but in a very kind way.  Never nasty.  I don’t think he would want to be horrid.  It is not his nature.

Everyone in the herd is his friend.

Of course, he has the best mentor.

I am feeling better today – thank you for all your kind thoughts and messages – hugely appreciated.

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My day started with the sheep and the hens being fed.  Four bowls for three sheep in their little field – once our vegetable garden.

Once they have their four bowls of food to argue over, Lambie comes running out behind me as I leave and shut them in. He has his own food separately.

That’s because he is Mummy’s precious woolly lamb and he likes to eat in peace and quiet.

On my way back to the feedshed, I meet Wussums who is out and about trying to find unsuspecting wildlife he can bring down.

Lambie, of course, comes racing over to see if there is anything more going begging for a poor thin little sheep.

I swear if he could beg, he probably would!

Here is today’s sunrise.

The horses are fed by Daisy.  We have them all up in a small paddock where she distributes the silage into defunct fish-boxes.  This is an attempt to stop the precious silage being wasted but some (Kappi) are mucky eaters.

First of we thought we would put a couple of fishboxes outwith the paddock so Newt and Albie could eat without being bullied.  *** cough – Haakon – cough ***.  He can be horrid.

But, so far, we haven’t needed to.  The horses are actually on hard-standing.  It is a bit muddy but not nearly as bad as it would get without it.

There are many more piles of silage in boxes than horses/ponies so everyone gets enough.

Then all the horses are chucked out of the paddock and they can wander about in their two fields.

This is the view from my front door.

Not bad, eh?

I don’t want to whinge but last night I had an allergic reaction (not anaphylaxis, I hasten to add) to cephalopods – squid to be precise.  Dammit – I love squid.

I have been wiped out all day though I did manage to crawl out of bed this morning in my jim-jams putting waterproofs over the top to feed the sheep, though I was a few minutes late so Daisy had already given the Boyzens their hard feed. I just distributed silage in the usual places, managing to bang my head on the low beam to add insult to injury. So you can add a headache as well to my list of ailments.

Feeling very sorry for myself, I announced to the family that I was going back to bed, where I have stayed ever since.

So that’s me.  Daisy has been holding the horse fort magnificently.  Flossie has been running up and down the stairs while OH cooks so everyone has been fully employed in my absence.

Tomorrow, hopefully, I will back to what I consider is normal.

The nursing staff have been fully attentive.

Tuesday = Flute Lesson Day so Daisy and drove off to make our poor flute teacher’s morning a living Hell.  We don’t like to disappoint!

Next onto Lerwick for the January Sales!  Of course, I jest – the whole place was closed for business except for three shops/restaurants.

I’ve just looked it up and, apparently, January 2nd is a Bank (Public) Holiday in Scotland.  I did not know this.  I perhaps should’ve since I have lived here for over 20 years!

This is  Oxford Street, London – Boxing Day Sales. I feel ill.

Shetland is perfect for me and my way of life.

So, after a lovely meal – we pooled our Christmas money and treated ourselves, we wended our way home.

The sun was setting and we needed to get home before the daylight vanished completely to feed Taktur and Efstur and put their rugs on – it is going to rain tonight and they will possibly melt.

It is very icey out – the sea has frozen in places which always amazes me as well as looking very strange.

When we got home, we were met by four complainants.  Three at the door.

And Puzzah who has made best friends with the lick bucket!

Well, the first day of the year means it is all change again for the horses and ponies at Thordale.

We moved them to one of our last slightly-less-muddy fields.  I led Haakon and all the rest followed.  They were very pleased to go and didn’t need any encouragement.

The mud is pretty bad everywhere now but there is nothing we can do.  It is always like this for just about everyone.  Luckily, our ground is on boulder clay/rock so the mud can only be so-deep but it can suck your wellies off leaving you hopping about in socks. The ultimate misery that can ruin your day!

Newt struggled to get through the mud.  He is so much smaller than everyone else and it is getting him down.   With the horses in this field, they still have to wade through a deep bit through the gate to get to their feed troughs of silage every morning.  If it gets too bad, I will just keep the little ones up round the house or over at Clothie.   Ankle-deep for Iacs means belly-deep for Newt.  I can see his point.

The boys had a quick run around, which was lovely to watch.

Albie and Newt had a great time trotting about chasing each other.

There is mud up by the house too.  Mud and sheep poo.  Note the broom that lives permanently by the door, as does Lambie. Some folk have those posh “stable” type doors. I have a nursery stair gate!

Still, the nights are getting shorter by about one minute a day.  Anyone remember summer?