Meet…….

He doesn’t have a name (well, he has his registered Shetland pony name but it really doesn’t suit him).

He is very, and I mean very, small.  A few inches high.

We brought him home this afternoon.  He had been looking for a home on Facebook.  Like Albie, he is a colt (that will be remedied in the spring).

We fed Albie his tea first and then let them meet up in a small paddock.

I have always thought Albie was a small little squirt but this pony is even smaller.

He has lived on his own for the past two months, but he is desperate to make friends with Albie.

I stood and watched them together while Daisy went and fetched Tor.  Albie hates being away from his surrogate mother.

Once Tor arrived, things calmed down a bit.

(I told you, he is tiny)

Tor took an interest in this new little boy.

We stood and watched them all talk.

The tables turned.  Albie was the dominant one.  He behaved like Camus did to him when they first met.

“Keep away from my Mum” – he kept saying to our newbie.

I thought Albie would behave better than that but perhaps it needs to be said.  There is the hierarchy.

Tor and Albie grazed (almost frantically) with their heads pressed up against each other.  It wasn’t a calm moment.  Most odd.

Little Thing won’t let me talk to him.  He did arrive with a headcollar on (I think it had been on for a couple of weeks), and probably by taking it off we won’t get near him for a while but I am not a fan of ponies wearing them in the field.

Most importantly, he needs to remember how to be a pony.

And then we will get to know him and he will be another Minion.

And then there will be no more.  We are full now.

So, please name suggestions – remember tiny – and lots of vibes for him.  He needs to tame down and for everyone to love him.

My turn to go and see my little herd of Shetland ponies in Sandness.

En route, I passed the hill ponies.

These are the ponies that will spend their winter on the scattald (hill grazing).

On arrival, I quickly realised I had forgotten something.

I hardly dared tell them.

I was very tempted just to stay in the car and count legs but I had to take responsibility and own up.

I had forgotten the carrots!

“What?  Seriously?  You forgot?”

And suddenly I was the most unpopular person there.

I was surprised anyone wanted to talk to me, to be honest.

That was a look of steely determination from Waffle.  He wanted his carrots.

But, and I have said it before and I will say it again, everyone is fatty, fat, fat!  Yes, Vitamin, even you!

So they walked off in disgust.

I managed a few snaps while I was there.

And I promised my little herd that tomorrow they can have double rations.

“Double rations, you say?”

“Just make sure you do”.

Yes, Waffle, I promise.

I drove home feeling guilty.

(Note-to-self, put a bag of carrots in the car for tomorrow’s visit or there will be trouble)

This is a Flashback Friday blog.

Fatsworth, originally Chatsworth (or Chattie), was very special.  We rescued him from the Cats’ Protection League many years ago.

Originally, he was apparently found a-wandering with a horrid collar indentation in a residential area of Lerwick where there was a good Fish shop.  He was about 6 months’ old when he came to us and we never put another collar on him again.  He loved talking (hence his name – Chattie) chips and I would bring him home any lunch-spares when we went to Lerwick.  Chips were better than fish.  That explained so much.

Fatsworth was a character.

He ruled the house and we loved him for it.  No one ever doubted this fact.

Next the world.  It seemed an obvious progression.

He was never horrible to the dogs, just told them how it would be.

And they believed him.

I mean, why wouldn’t you?

Fatsworth was as wide as he was tall.

For a cat that lived mainly on nature’s buffet trolley, he managed to pack it all in.

This was his preferred method of sleeping.

We used to say he was “Closed for Business”.

Wherever you went, you would always be accompanied by a singing Fatsworth.  He talked while he walked while he didn’t tread on the ground!  His talent.

We all miss him more than words.

He was a wonderful character and taken from us far too early.  There was nothing we could do.

So a Flashback Friday for Chattie.  He used to love a Christmas tree – he would sit in wait underneath and then go for the attack under the cloak of tree!  None were safe and none would pass.

He was a sod, but he was our sod.

(yes, I even put him my handbag to see if he could fit – and yes, of course he could!  Did he mind?  Nah!  It was just another receptacle for world domination.)

Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends.  I hope you have a wonderful day with your friends and family and I am thankful that you are my friends and care about all of us at Thordale.

Here is Mr Twizzler, my “pet” turkey listening to the classical music on the radio.  He was a dude and used to follow me everywhere around the croft like a recalcitrant Dalek.

Notice how he “sings” along in key to the music but stops when the presenter or adverts talk. 

A dear boy. Much missed.  He was a good turkey.

This morning, I spent my day cleaning the house and I mean clean.  A wax-on, wax-off type of clean as we have visitors for the next few days.

(I hope they notice, just sayin’!)

And then in the afternoon, I pottered off to Turriefield leaving Daisy to walk the dogs and feed Albie.

I enjoy my work. It is voluntary and one of the highlights of my week.

I am she-who-weighs-and-bags.  I like to be accurate (800g is what I was aiming for).  I have a list with instructions.

I started with carrots

And then moved onto “tatties”.

We all work very hard and stay until the work is done.

I strongly believe that, even if you are a volunteer, it is a “three line whip” situation (ie, you turn up no matter what) and you give your time for as long as it is needed.  If  I say I will do something, I do it.  I never think I won’t turn up.  Folk are relying on me and to be honest, I love doing it, though I have a yearning to turn over the bags like they do in old-fashioned greengrocers!

I take pleasure in choosing the croft-grown vegetables and making sure the weights are correct – it is my obsession.

So, happy Thanksgiving everyone xx

At 09:00 sharp we all congregate for the morning chores.  The sun is coming up and being winter, it is always beautiful to watch.  I stop for a moment every sunny morning and feel lucky I live in Shetland.

Today Wu was about looking very disapproving.  He suffers from bitchy-resting-face most of the time but it is very unusual to see him out and about with us.  Usually by this time in the morning, he is asleep on someone’s bed.  But no, today, here he was with us looking cross.

After the feeds (Velia’s turmeric bomb and Albie’s brekkie), we found the little-bigger boys by the house.

They are a sweet comedy duo and carrots were obviously dished out because of this.

Tomorrow is less nice, weather-wise, so Daisy and I took the riding horses out.

First up were Klængur and Taktur.  Klængur belongs to my other daughter, Flossie, so I just ride him to keep him fit and to remind him of his manners.  He had a bit of an abberation this summer but is much nicer now.

Darling Taktur is having a good winter in his field across the hill.  He lives with Kappi and they are very settled there.

On the next ride, we took Haakon and Kappi.

Kappi is Daisy’s 2nd horse – her competition horse.

Haakon and Kappi are not the best of friends.  They like each other more than when they don’t live together.

So, they were pleased to see each other again.

Haakon sneaked in a cheeky nibble just to remind Kappi that he is still the boss!

A lovely riding day.