I have a new heading on my blog – “Cold Turkeys”.

In a nutshell, on Monday night, I had a severe allergic reaction (anaphylaxis) to my prescribed drugs.  It was that bad.

The next morning ,having survived a very scary night, I phoned my GP and was told to immediately stop taking two of my drugs.  No tapering off, just cold turkey.

This is not going to be a fun trip ahead.  I was on maximum dosage of one of them and immediate withdrawal comes with an FDA warning.  You don’t just stop unless you have a life-threatening reason.

So, for the next few or more weeks, for me life is not going to be easy.  There is no quick way to do this.  I just have to stop.  End of.

Hence my Cold Turkeys “bloggette”.  It is a place where I can write my thoughts and try to keep some perspective.

Forgive me if some days when there is no main blog.  My brain will have fallen out.  My OH and daughters are full onboard with what is lying ahead.  If things get too tough, they will take me to the local hospital.  I just pray I don’t hit the wall running.

What to Expect (dire warning article)

Day to day, I am planning on trying to go with the flow – resting when I need to, gentle exercise, clean food – no refined sugars or carbs, lots of warm water with lemon, endless showers or baths, until I feel normal again. I can’t replace the verboten drugs with more.  I have no idea what will happen and I am terrified.

But, on the good side, I have the best diversions ever….

When it gets bad, I am moving in with Lambie and ‘Ster.

Daisy loves her horse.  She really does.

But she doesn’t love him very much when he has crawled under the fence on his knees for the unth-most time to roam around another field, especially the one next to Tor, Camus and Albie.

Taktur has taken up this annoying habit recently but mostly into a different field where he can do no harm.  Today, he widened his travelling horizons.

Daisy returned him to his original field, constructed a barrier to deter him and he went straight back again.  None of the other horses followed him, or care.

So, after visiting the Minions for me, I met Daisy who was wearing a fixed determined look on her face.

She marched to our electric fence department, found the necessary equipment and created her creation.

(Klængur took on a supervisory, while supportive, role)

Daisy did an excellent job – she made everything ready, working well and it was ticking too, so Taktur could hear it.  I think that is only fair.  (He knows what an electric fence is, so it is up to him to decide whether he wants to test it.)

Next Taktur was taken back to his field.

And we left him to make his own choices.

(I think we can call this a determined walk)

Taktur knew exactly where he wanted to go.

Daisy’s fence worked like a charm.

We went indoors with Taktur taking responsibility for his behaviour.

(one hour on, he is still standing there looking at it).

The light was right.

Everyone looked amazing.

There was hugging…..

with reciprocal hugging back.

Curiosity was everywhere.

Silly faces were made….

As well as blissed out ones too.

Darling little furry puffballs ….

with small floofy kissey noses.

Oof!

For me, life just doesn’t get much better.

Seriously, I am struggling here as it was the perfect afternoon doing what we like to do best – Flossie was hugging foals while I was taking photos and now I am disintegrating into baby language while I look at the photos again, and write this blog!  Get a grip, Frances.  I am ashamed.

Ok, the photos are not all beautiful, per se, but I think that most have something special.

or eccentric….

…. or traditional.

or fairy-tale.

Afterwards, just as we were going, armed with waffles for our help, we noticed a beautiful floofy foal “helping”  Amina investigate something very interesting.

Life is good when you are around little Shetland pony foals.

Floss and I went to see Vitamin today in her Fat Fighters Field.

But, before we reached her field, we met four little piglets that were newly arrived at their croft.

I am not sure if I am a piglet/piggie person.

On the one hand, they remind me, of Gremlins after they have eaten.

And, on the other, of Jack, my little Patterdale – same shape and with the same language.

I do see that pigs are sort of cute.

They have huge expressions and communicate all the time with each other, mostly about food.

And there is even a human-esque quality to them which, I think, is purely anthropomorphic, in reality.

I can understand sheep.  I can even tame sheep, but I just don’t get pigs.

(the film “Babe” has never appealed and that voice was just plain annoying).

It could be the shape of their face – those ridiculous ears.

The snout.

They almost look prehistoric.

Anywho, we left the piggies, visited the ducks (a happy little comedy Marx Brother foursome).

And there, in the distance, was a newly-slimmed Vitamin.

She looked perfect for coming into winter.

She had her same beautiful expression and was very pleased to see us, whickering when we came over. It is good that she is happy and settled in her slimming environment.  This field in spring/summer probably saved her life.  It was my fault for feeding her last winter and I know this.

Anywho, they all have a lovely view.

And the pigs are happy.

(they still freak me out!)

Sometimes, very occasionally I add, I jump up and down and rant about the mess we all live in.

Today was that day.

We have a container for keeping feed, old rugs, etc in and every winter we (well, particularly me) throw empty feed bags, as well as anything that needs a place to live. It fills up quickly and becomes increasingly disgusting.

Today, Floss emptied the container.  She scraped the welded fusty sheep/pony feed off the floor.

And revealed was space, beautiful space!

Pallets were lugged inside to keep feed bags off the floor.

Feed bins were repositioned so there was easier access rather than finding a bin, peering into it and wondering who the contents were for, while Lambie bouncing round your legs yells “me, me, me – it is all for me!”

Meanwhile, in the indoor school, Daisy was hard at work removing old bruck (Shetland dialect for rubbish) that has been stored here since we were once a riding school and trekking centre. That was many years ago.

The regularly used bridles are now arranged.  The saddles are covered in old duvet covers as the birds who also share in the shed, ie nesting wrens, sparrows, etc, tend to leave little blobs around.  I don’t mind as long as I can protect the good kit.

If I couldn’t burn it, then nto the back of my van went all the rubbish – ie, stuff we trip over thinking it might be useful, but it never is.

Obviously, we had help.

And then, to top it all off, I had a big bonfire and I burned all the burnable rubbish that had been lying around for far too long.

It was very cathartic.

Well done all of us – Daisy, Flossie, me, Lambie, ‘Ster.  Without you none of this could be achieved.