Pip and I were going on the daily early morning dog walk, as per our now well established and usual routine.  I had my camera with me just in case something caught my eye.

Othe home stretch, while Pip was dreaming of the soon-to-be-his breakfast, I thought I saw a large brown chicken and a magpie in front of us.

Of course, the chuck took flight and went up into the branches of the nearby oak tree.

So, Pip and I followed the bird to see if I could take more pictures.  Pip was very good and kindly forwent his breakfast dream to come with me.

I quickly identified the bird as a Red Kite.  They have recently arrived in our neck of the woods (the last 10 years) having been re-established in 1994  on Christmas Common in the Chilterns 25 miles away.

I had never seen a Kite before – I’ve heard about them, but never seen one flying above me.

I was very impressed.  It soared beautifully.

I am now looking up information – Kites have a wing span of more than six feet.

They are considered scavengers.

From Wikipedia – “The red kite (Milvus milvus) is a medium-large bird of prey in the family Accipitridae, which also includes many other diurnal raptors such as eagles, buzzards, and harriers.”

From the RSPB – “The red kite is subject to the longest continuous conservation project in the world.”

It eventually flew away so Pip and I went home for our breakfast.

Me (on the phone to Daisy):  So how are Delia and Lyra getting on?

Me:  Is Delia ok? (I am always worrying about her and thinking this will be her last summer).

Me:  Is she managing to eat ok and keeping on the weight? (still worrying).

Daisy:  Oh yes!  She nearly flattens me for her carrot when I visit every day!

Me:  And Lyra?  How is she?

Daisy:  She’s fine

Daisy:  Looking very good.  Perhaps a bit too good.

Daisy:  And Lyra is still very friendly, which is lovely (some summers Lyra has been known to turn a tad feral which is just plain boring).

The Shetland girls are both in Sandness, four miles down the road, happily sharing a field with two of Bjørn’s Shetland ponies.  They are all checked regularly.

Meanwhile, back at Thordale, ‘Ster has been busy making friends with Dreki.

From the photo, I think Lilja wants nothing to do with sheep.  She is practising being pretty.

Soon, I will be home and can get to know my foals who are growing like weeds.

Today, I met this little deer in a neighbour’s garden.

A memorable moment (I would love a pet deer……… though I think Lambie et al would have the most monumental tantrum!)

On my early morning dog walk, I occasionally see deer.

Yesterday was incredible – a young doe with her two nursing fawns.  They even walked towards me because I imitated her head-nodding behaviour and a made low “Lambie-Muzzah” voice.  Of course, being me I didn’t have my camera but, believe me, it was a memorable moment in my life.

Today, I was blessed by seeing this little (and I could be wrong) doe who was grazing alone.

She immediately clocked me but saw I was absolutely no threat and so continued with eating.

Pip (Mum’s Patterdale terrier) and I just stood quietly for a while and watched.

It was magical.

Truly special to be in the presence of such a timid animal who had accepted me.

I was standing the other side of the stream so my camera did all the work!

Interestingly enough, some golfers arrived in their cart and you can see just how close to each other are without realising.

When I told them they had been within yards of a beautiful deer, they were completely disinterested and drove off.  (pfft)

I must add that my charge, Pip, the Patterdale terrier, was an absolutel jewel.  While I stood and watched the deer, he stayed by my feet waiting and willing me to drop small dog biccies his way.

He had spotted the deer but made no move to chase it, unlike some who I was glad were not here.

cough *** BeAnne, Loki *** cough

A truly special morning, though perhaps not as special as the doe and her two fauns, which really was essence of Bambi.

I wonder if they thought I vaguely spoke their language.

This is Serena.

She belonged to my mother’s great aunt (Aunt Kate) who was given the doll by her father when coming back from Paris in the 1870’s.  He was an antique dealer in Bond Street, London.

When my mother visited her great aunt, her greatest treat was to undress and redress Serena who lived wrapped up in a silk scarf in an antique serpentine fronted chest of drawers.

Serena is a bit of an enigma.  We have no idea who she really is.  Just by looking at her today, whilst trying to compare  her to other 19th century (reinforced?) wax dolls, she is different – more adult looking.

Serena has “sleeping eyes” and a voice box (squeak!) which all still work.  Her body is made out of linen stuffed with wood wool.  She has a wax head and arms, composition legs with boots painted on.  Sadly, one hand is missing but covered up with the end of a kid glove little finger by Aunt Kate.  The other arm is original and with its yellow painted glove.

Her clothes are beautiful and mostly of the fashion of the 1870’s in Europe.  She is very a well dressed lady in a shot silk taffeta skirt and fitted matching jacket.

Underneath there are three petticoats – one black and pink with velvet trim and then a cream flannel one with pintucks. Under a corset, Serena has another finer cotton lawne chemise trimmed with lace.  And lastly there is underwear made by a friend in the 1960’s of my mother’s, who was so shocked to see Serena sans knickers!

Lastly, the hat is made of brown straw, originally trimmed with pink roses and blue ribbon.  Serena’s hair may be mohair and has a netted snood at the back.  She also has pierced ears and a pearl necklace.

So, who is the inscrutable Serena?  She is 18″ tall and made so she can sit perfectly.

Any ideas?

I asked Daisy to go and hug the Minions for me.

She said they all came running.

Albie is still a little yak-ish.

Tiddles is hanging onto his winter coat (can’t you tell, we brush them endlessly!)

But Newt is the hairiest yak of them all.

They will be left until I come home. It is not that warm in Shetland and their fur will fall off when it needs to.

And no one seems to mind.

Darling Lambie.  I miss everyone too.