Today we wormed everyone.  It needed doing and so, armed with headcollars, bribery (sliced carrot) and wormer, Daisy and I wormed everyone – all *** cough *** 19 horses and ponies.

Until today, I actually never realised we have 19 horses and ponies.  I never count them.  They just are and that is that.  When anyone asks how many I have, I just reply “some”.

To be fair, however, it only 18 as Tor is on loan for Albie to be his step-mother.

Anywho, everyone was fine, easily caught and wormed.  Even Efstur, who was hopping about being a tit, tried to bite the wormer nozzle so it was easy enough to quickly shovel it down!

En route to the little herd in Sandness, we saw a good rainbow.

Daisy went into the field first to see if Lyra was talking to her.

Lyra instantly knows if you want her for something important and then refuses to be caught ever again.  She is clever like that.

We wormed Lyra first and then Vitamin, who was appalled and promptly afterwards ran away in a huff.

We left her there and she sulked silently at us.

Meanwhile, the others were very keen to be wormed.

And then after worming, there was hugging…..

…. and tickling.

and nibbling of a pony tail (the human kind).

My OH commented the other day that our ponies don’t like being stroked. They all like to be hugged. For us, it is not an invasion of our space, it is being on their level and letting them “talk” (sorry, I’ve gone all wafty now.  Well, perhaps you know what I mean.)

Waffle and Silver are very well.

Lyra is looking superb.

I think we need a plan for her next year.  She has exceedingly good bloodlines – Berry and Wells.

So everyone wormed. Ta da!

Last Day to Vote!
(please tell your friends)

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Today was good.

Daisy and I went for a ride on Iacs and Haakon, the old men, though you wouldn’t know it.

We left BeAnne behind as she just can’t keep up and we were told off the other day for taking sheep-eating dogs onto the hill.

Note-to-self, remind me to tell her (oooof, Lambie was so cute).

Anywho, we have a routine.  Daisy does the gate on the way out.

She has had Iacs since time began and they are the best of friends.  I am still waiting for her to grow out or get bored of him, like many young riders.

Iacs favours the long and low outline……

….. with occasional optimistic carrot interludes.

The boys are related.  Cousins, I think we worked it out as.

Iacs oftens lags behind and then I hear Daisy say “Bimble” in a shocked way, and he creeps up to annoy Haakon who has to be in front and then they both rush off, giggling together.

I let Daisy/Iacs go first on the cantering track.  There is no saying no.

Sometimes we race.  Today, I couldn’t be arsed.

And then onwards and upwards deep into the hill.

This is my most favourite view in the whole world.  Left ear slightly back listening to me, right ear forward, ready for adventure.

The view at the top.  It’s not bad.

I wonder if I can buy a nose-wheel anywhere.

Daisy tried the Ride with your Mind method of training….

….. while I enjoyed the view.

There was one little happy person waiting for us at home.

And this is the abridged version, with the odd bit of commentary!

Enjoy.

An afternoon spent with gorgeous Shetland pony stallions.  Always a chore, never a pleasure – NOT!

And there was the occasional rain – BORING.

The Bergli stallions are darling boys and much loved.

These guys all live together and get on fine, though all bets are off when the silage bales arrive.  Then superiority is the name of the day.  Hence why we were moving two of them.

In some folks’ lives, stallions have a bad reputation.

All they really want is to be understood.

As well as having an endless supply of nose kisseys. I am always happy to oblige.  Tis my purpose in life, I think.  I trust stallions far more than mares.  Less arsey.

This chap has the best hair-do ever.

This is Waffle’s father – Wulfert.  I struggle to see any family resemblance at all!  Ok, they are both black.

So we moved two of the stallions to their new winter field in Burra and, while Bjørn played electric fences, I took photos of everyone getting to know each other.

They screamed at each other like girls in a disco dancing round their handbags.

It was wonderful to watch.  The boys never stopped talking to each other.

This, for me, sumsup Shetland ponies living in their true environment – Shetland.

Funny little boys.

Wulfert decided to take on minature stallion, Tac Tic.

For Shetland ponies, stature is irrelevant.

And this is my favouritst (real word?) of them all – little Timeon who would make the best Minion but actually doesnt’ need rescuing.

Timeon is always the first up to tell me what great friends we are.  I spent the afternoon telling him he was the best and I loved him very much.

Winter is well and truly here.

Wind and rain and it is about 5 degrees Celsius out there.  My bones ache on days like these.  Oh, how they ache.

In Shetland, the rain does not fall vertically.  In fact, many years ago, when I took my daughters south, they saw snow fall downwards for the first time.  They always thought it fell horizontally because that is how it is here. 

So, this morning Delia had her rainsheet put on.

A tad snug but it covers the bits that matter and it will keep the rain off her back, but perhaps not her tummy!

Little Albie is now sporting an extension – his neck cover, though it does blow backwards so I am not sure how much good it will actually do.

Albie needs his rug.  He is small and does not have the best coat.

I am trying very hard not to be “she-who-rugs-everyone” and whoever is rugged has to actually need a rug for their health rather than for my convenience.  Dirt is healthy and keeps you warm.

Fivla does not need a rug.

Tiddles does not need a rug (and neither does Storm).

Klængur does not need a rug.

In fact nobody else needs a rug despite what some might think or tell me.

Those that work get a handful of feed balancer and those that need it get turmeric (Delia for her old age, Fivla for her shoulders and Tiddles because he fell in the sinkhole).

The Sons and Mothers camp are fine, too. Hetja has taught Hjalti how to eat the garden – mode d’emploi is to stretch massively over the fence.

So, I went to town and bought 20 bales of hay, because you just never know.  Someone might be thin one day!

Little Himself, aka Albie, is doing well.

He is still fed twice a day – once in the morning (1 litre of milk and a scoop of hard feed) and then again in the afternoon (1litre of milk).

I always tip up his bowl with my foot.

It makes it easier for Albie to get the last drops.

And then there is Storm who arrives far too quickly.

Albie is not keen on sharing his milk.  His little bottom whirrs round like the armed turret on the top of an army tank.  He is not afraid to tell anyone what he thinks!

None shall share.

(not even little blue-eyed Tiddles).

Then there is the statutory game with the milk bottle.  A necessity rather than habit.

Today, I brought Albie in as I wanted to try rugs on him.  The weather is going to deteriorate and Daisy and I have been thinking that Albie may be losing weight.  We settled on this rather nifty number.

It fits a treat and Albie looks very smart in it.

I took Albie back out to his field, where Storm was waiting for him.  He leads very well on a headcollar – always has.  Such lovely manners.

And then the Shetland ponies had to examine him thoroughly.

Very thoroughly, if he would just stay still long enough.

Funnily little ponies.  Look at Tor’s body language.  She doesn’t want anyone near her little foster boy.

She does care. I know she says she doesn’t but she does (secretly).