Last night, I chanced upon a Tweet from a fellow local Northern Lights photographer – the Merrie Dancers were dancing.

So I grabbed my camera, the right lens, and then spent the next hour upending the entire house looking for the vital bit that attaches my camera to the tripod.  That small essential hiding f***ing rectangle thing without which I could not photograph a sausage.

It normally lives permanently attached to my camera body but I had put it in a safe place as I decided not to take a tripod to Norway and hadn’t needed it since my return.

I went through all my “safe places” and my “safe camera places” and just about everywhere I could think of, rifling through every drawer in the house becoming increasingly furious with myself.  Daisy and OH were now standing outside the backdoor enjoying a superb light show. Grrrr.

When they came back into the house, saying the show was just about over, ta-da, I found the thing (yes, in my extra safe camera safe place). Why didn’t I look there first? FFS!

And then I could not photograph the bloody things.  Blurry photo after blurry photo of green blur – which is my pet peeve. I like crisp clear clean stars.  Not lumps.

So I came back indoors to find my Northern Lights photo instructions which are are essential as I always forget what to do.  I needed to get my photo settings right.

On my way into the house, I managed to hang myself on a hook, catch my sweater and break my kitchen utensil pot, that I’ve had since 1980’s.  I nearly cried with frustration.

But the rage.  I am in such a rage.  I just could not catch a break.  I gave up and went to bed.

Tomorrow, beautiful ponies, I promise. I still see them.  They are my Anger Management Therapy.  I blame the steroid injections.

Tuesday morning was the flute lesson – a highlight in my calendar, and then on into town.  My life rarely changes.

Daisy and I did some of our messages first and then breaked for lunch, starving, to the chip shop and then on to find a nice view to look at while we sat in the van and ate.

Lerwick is full of great views.

It is a lovely old town (evidence of settlement first being seen 3000 years ago).

Lerwick, the town, really got going in the 17th century as a herring and white fish sea port.

In 1708, Lerwick became the capital of Shetland – taking over from Scalloway.

In the 19th century, Lerwick prospered hugely through sea trade and the fishing industry.

Anywho, Daisy and I sat in the van, full of pony and horse feed, eating our chips thoroughly enjoying the view.

By the way, Shetland has the best fish and chips.

These flags were on the pilot boat tug owned by Lerwick Harbour Authority.  The left (red and white one) is the “I have a pilot on board” flag (please tell me if I am wrong.  Seriously, I hate misinformation on the internet).

The left one – the blue and white one – is the flag of Shetland, designed in 1969 by Roy Grønneberg and Bill Adams and created to commemorate the 500th anniversary of the transfer of the islands from Norway by Denmark in the Kalmar Union to Scotland and the 500 years before as part of Norway (a bloody big mistake, if you ask me – I wish Shetland was still part of Scandinavia).

Anywho, I love sitting eating chips (and a vegetable spring roll that oddly tasted only of cabbage) watching the nautical world go by.

(I may have become a little obsessed with the recycled tyres that were being used as fenders.)

“Spring Equinox 2017 in Northern Hemisphere was at 10:28 on Monday, 20 March”

Today is officially the beginning of Spring.  The first day leading towards a gorgeous spring and, hopefully, wonderful summer (please, please, please).

Although it has not been a hard winter, everywhere is wet and mud.  We are all very fed up and just want the grass to grow.

I spent the afternoon dropping off post, driving around a bit and generally taking photos in the drizzle that is the newly arrived Shetland spring weather, replacing the sheet rain and gales for the time being.

I have it on good authority that these are Widgeons (Anas penelope).  I wish they had been a bit nearer – they were very pretty, especially Mr W.  I might, on a nice day, go and have another look for some more.  I have a soft spot for ducks.

Visibility in the drizzle was not brilliant but still, Shetland looks good in most weathers.

There is a point, though, when it is raining too much for me to take my camera out.

So I just stayed in the car and drove around enjoying the scenery.

Roll on Spring, please.  Off we go.  Green grass and sitting outside!

I think I overdid it a bit yesterday.  As the weather was nice, I went riding on Haakon and I found, that when he cantered, my back didn’t like it one little bit.  His wonderful tölt was fine but Haakon has to be first all the time, so would occasionally canter to stay in front of Kappi.  Yes, it is a race thing. He has always been like that.

I am paying the price today.

And, even more stupidly, I decided that today would be the day that I didn’t take any painkillers so I have been moping around hurting and wondering why!

Duh!

Today, I have not felt my best.  For some reason, I thought that, if I went for a walk along the road with BeAnne, then the exercise in the cold wind would make a difference.  It didn’t and I must admit I struggled to get home.  I have given up and taken painkillers.

Anywho, these are pictures from yesterday at Lyradale.

I sat on a rock and one by one the chaps and chappesses came to see me to have a hug and a chat.

(does anyone have a field made of only concrete for Fivla to spend the summer in?)

Lyra was the last to come over and say hello – her mother, Vitamin, had gone the long way round in a sulk.

Waffle went over the wall, not through the gap.

Yesterday, it was a lovely afternoon.  Today it is less so.

Ho-hum, the analgesia is now kicking in.

There was a bright yellow round shining thing in the sky today so we all made the most of it.

Little Albie had found a sun-trap warm spot and made himself comfortably comfortable.  He settled down for his afternoon sleep in the sunshine.

He briefly woke up when he heard my camera shutter.

But soon went quickly back to bye-byes.

Tor, as ever, was watching on.  She still takes her little responsibilities, Albie and Newt, very seriously.  She is always there for them.

I wanted to move the old sorrel stalk that was ruining my shot.

Albie woke up properly.  I love that sleepy face of his.  All snoozy and cuddly.

He is a darling little chap.  Still a Mummy’s Boy.

Round the corner was another darling-little-chap – Newt Patoot!

Newt is trying for the silly-frilly look. He has an excellent corkscrew curl in his mane and forelock which adds to his deliciousness.

Newt, though still 25″, remains the very definition of enchantment.

(This summer, if you can’t find me, try looking in their field – I may have to spend many hours, when the good weather comes, hugging!)