Egill Þórarinsson is here, at Thordale, training 10 riders and their Icelandic horses all weekend.

Today, having arrived fresh off the boat, he waded straight in.  Egill asked everyone to ride their horse and then, having watched them together, the rider dismounted and he got on and tried the horse for himself.  Then, mostly, everyone rode their horse again with instruction.  Tomorrow there will be individual lessons.  The weather was miserable outside so we were all thankful for the indoor school.

There was a strict timetable – five horses before lunch, and five after with a small break for coffee/tea and we introduced Egill to the Scottish staple, Tunnocks caramel wafers, as well.  Bjørn was on hand to translate and assist.

We all watched.

There was lots of chatting over horses.

We provided comfortable seating with occasional armrest.

I may have eaten my weight in egg mayonaise sandiwiches….

And then, again, in apple cake (eplekake)

Why am I not riding?  Because my back is not up to it at the moment.  Flossie and Daisy are participating, though, so that is all that matters for me.  I am happy enough eating egg mayonnaise sandwiches interpersed with taking the odd photo!

This weekend is very exciting.

One of Iceland’s most famous Icelandic horse riders, trainers (an instructor at Holar University) and breeders (his stud – Minni-Reykjum) is visiting Shetland for a two day clinic at Thordale – Egill Þórarinsson.

Yes, we have been cleaning everything.

There are ten riders and their horses in training this weekend and we have five Icelandic horses living at Clothie, which is wonderful to see.

I popped up to Clothie this afternoon for a visit and to make some introductions.

The black horse is Orri from Longhill.

Then there is the beautiful Afla frá Skálmholtshrauni (don’t ask me pronounce that one).

Then there is Hörður fra Stall Ellingseter (again, don’t ask).

Esja frá Víðinesi is home and it is lovely to see our little girl again – she knows her old Mum and her surroundings.

Kristall fra Stutteri Borg is an orange sossage – we had a lovely conversation! He thinks like Klæengur.  So similar, it was scary.  He had some training at Thordale a few years back.

And so everyone is together at Clothie.

And Flossie (my youngest is home) from Oxford.  Someone was very pleased to see her (actually, we all her – my life is perfect now).

So, roll on the weekend.  Egill Þórarinsson, international Icelandic horse trainer, is on his way to tell us how it shall be!  Very excited.

I have made 48 muffins (minus 4, because we had to try them) plus muchos soup. 

Yesterday, I helped my friend and trainer, Bjørn of Bergli Stud. I was at a loose end – Daisy wanted me out of the area (she was cleaning up Thordale in readiness for an Icelandic Horse Clinic this weekend) and I needed a diversion (BeAnne was having biopsies for lumps tomorrow).

So we drove off to see some Shetland pony stallions in Burra (another island, luckily attached by bridge).

While Bjørn trimmed hooves and dished out wormer, I pottered about unhelpfully with my camera!

This is my little gorgeous Waffle’s Sire.

Wulfert v.d. groote woerd – the very epitome of dude!

Now, that is some mane.

I adore Wulfert.

I must admit, however, that I see absolutely nothing of him in Waffle – he is all his Mum, which is not a bad thing, but he is not his Pa.

Wulfert is a very independent – I-don’t-need-no-one – kinda dude who is lovely to talk to.

A magical boy.

Next up was Merkisayre Tactic.  In there, I promise, is a very smart miniature Shetland pony stallion.

No, really, there is.

I think I see a hint of one now.

My bad – just ears then.  Tactic is wonderful.  When he moves, he is jaw-droppinginly awesome.

Last up was Alex.

Alex v.d. Voshoek, to be precise.

The luscious Alex is the stuff of fairy tales.

And he knows it.

We all adore Alex.  He is ridiculously good looking!

🐶 🐕 🐶 🐕 🐶 🐕 🐶 🐕 🐶 🐕 🐶 🐕 🐶 🐕 🐶 🐕 🐶 🐕 🐶 🐕 🐶

Update:  BeAnne had her biopsies this morning.  She is back home now, feeling groggy but coming out of her anaesthetic.  Our vet thinks they look like benign lipomas (phew) but they are being sent to histology.  Worry doesn’t even go there.  While she was away, I cleaned the house to keep myself occupied.  The house is now immaculate!

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.)