On Saturday, I went to the Land of Trees – Berkshire to see my mother and for a family lunch.

The weather was lovely and I spent many hours taking photos of their fabulous roses.

There were nesting blue tits – always pretty and I had to be very fast to catch them on my camera.

Can someone please tell me what this bird is? I would say it was medium sized.

Mum has a very gorgeous Patterdale Terrier called Pip – a worthy contendor for any hairy Patterdale admirer.

Some might call Pip “a character” but there is not a mean bone in his body.  Totally affable and a glass half-full kind of chap who worships my mother.

The family house is surrounded by Downshire Golf Course. It is beautifully landscaped and well looked after.

Mum is allowed to walk her dog first thing in the morning before the golfers arrive.

So we went out at 07:00 with Pip and she showed me a black coloured bird that had been sitting on its own in the rough for a few days.

Of course, being me I had to go up to the bird, pick it up, have a quick look (finding no obvious)broken bones).  However, I could see this bird was dying.

En route home, I dunked him head first in the pond and it gratefully drank.  Apparently it is a carrion crow and I think it recently left the nest and somehow hurt one of its’ legs – it hops ok and then goes splat.

I spent the day feeding Tweet (name), or Crow-Thorne (Sunday name), with worms and then we moved onto beef mince and hard boiled egg.  Tweet opens the beak, doesn’t snap and doesn’t do that awful panicky flapping thing – I am not a bird person at all but it is easy to feed and to work with.  The cage, its night-time home is safe from any visiting foxes.  I made a larger run from random dog cage sides, string and bamboo for a perch.

We will see.  There is a corvid rescue centre down the road and if it all gets too much for Mum, she will take the bird there.  I so wanted to bring it back to Shetland but couldn’t work out the logistics.

Anyway, home now in Shetland and everyone was very pleased to see me.

(sorry, no photos)

I am too hot to think or write anything.

I arrived safely after many hours travelling, waiting and more travelling.

Tonight I am staying with my sister in south London and all I can hear are distant aeroplanes  constant traffic and ambulance sirens. There is faint birdsong but I couldn’t tell you who they are.

Tomorrow, bright and early, we go to see my mother in the Home Counties.  The weather forecast says it will be between 20-24 degrees.

I think I will sit in the sink pouring cold water over myself.

Today, I have been busy ironing and packing to go south to see my family for a couple of days.

I have left my OH with specific instructions for the animals and hopefully they will all be here when I return on Tuesday.

I am very easily distracted – anything not to iron so we (2 dogs, 2 sheep and me) all went for a walk after lunch.  This time I took ‘Ster as I wanted to see if he had learned his lesson about wandering off.  He was as good as gold and, though he went to speak to the other hill sheep, he didn’t stay with them and came straight back to me when I called him.

‘Ster looks very dignified with his “new look”.

But he is very subdued and, after the walk, we all had a sit down and a chat.  Maybe he got a bit of a shock yesterday and hated being so cold.

Lambie reminds me of when he was a little Lamb or a puppet.  He still has his winning smile, though, which he goes round practising on folk to see if they will give him his favourite treats!

Continuing with my diversions instead of packing, I went to see Efstur, Brá and Hetja, taking some apples with me.

Efstur is getting braver and braver.  He wanders around, quietly followed by his mother and then Hetja.

I am not looking forward to my trip – the actual travelling.  It is hot in England and I will miss my family.  Not sure whether they will miss me, though!

Once I am south it will be fine but I find it very difficult explaining my way of life.  I don’t really fit in and these days I have very different priorities.

This morning, I fed a solitary Lambie his solitary breakfast and I felt very sorry for him.

At the end of my gate, the hill sheep were passing by, but I couldn’t see any sign of ‘Ster who, I thought, had joined them.  I shouted for him,

No reply and the sheep started to move off.

Ten minutes later, I shouted again – this time I had a reply and sighted a small, recently sheared, grey sheep running towards me.

Phew!

The breakfast allowance was quickly doubled.

Afterwards, I went indoors and made myself a coffee-to-go, grabbed my ipad and sat in the sheep shed, which is full of new straw/hay and out of the wind.

Sitting on the floor, I waited. ClassicFM was playing on the ipad – surprisingly, the sheep shed has good wifi.

It didn’t take long before Lambie came to talk to me.  ‘Ster quickly followed and we spent a good hour chatting while I massaged him (yes, I massage my sheep, so shoot me!)

After a while, the Boysenberries both lay down to relax and chew their cud from breakfast.

Looking at ‘Ster, I could see he was cold.

So, I covered him up with straw and ‘Ster went to sleep, listening to the classical music.

Lambie was fine and it didn’t take long before ‘Ster was fine too.

A straw duvet is very effective.

Sitting all morning with my boys, listening to the lovely music, was a very bonding experience for us all.

We had a few visitors and, of course, BeAnne never left my side.

I want ‘Ster to realise that home means warmth, friends and food.  The hill is just a place where the Wild Things Are and he is not part of that.

Yesterday, this was Lambie, BeAnne and Loki on their daily dog walk.

And this is today!

Can you spot the difference?

The boys were sheared.  It had to happen and today was the day.  They are both suffering in the hot (for us) weather and spend most of the day living in the shade feeling utterly lethargic.

First up was Lambie.

Chris is a professional sheep-shearer and he was wonderful.  I explained Lambie’s general outlook on life (ie, he is very speshul), Chris did the best job and Lambie didn’t struggle or mind at all (after all my worrying too).

Lambie’s fleece was huge and very thick.  I think he is secretly a dalmatian.

Next up was ‘Ster.  He was unhelpful to catch, but settled down quickly.

I like the fact that no one was tied up, struggling or panicking.  I was proud of my sheepie-boys.  They were well behaved…..

…. and just put up with a necessary chore.

Afterwards, we watched Lambie and ‘Ster get their heads around having no wool.

They seemed more active and happy in themselves – as if a big load had been lifted.

‘Ster then ran off into the hill (hopefully, he will come home) to fight Bert but Lambie stayed with me.

I must admit that Lambie’s new appearance is very drastic and rather shocking to me but I am getting my head around it.  He has still got the same sweet smile and character.

So, today is a whole new day for us all.  On a plus side, it is lovely to see Lambie au naturel, ie his actual shape. I can see that he is “well covered” and much happier.

At least Lambie’s sisters love him, even if ‘Ster has gone, for the time being.

So, who wants their fleeces?