Ok, I have almost stopped calling them The Old Bats, but only because Delia and Vitamin are very sweet and they make me smile.

This was until I was picking up some hay in their shed to put in the haynet when Delia stormed in taking me with her. I was reminded of the old lady pushing to the front of the bus queue.

Mud is everywhere.  My life is mud, my house is mud and I am probably made of mud by now or at least have the beginnings of trench foot.  OH has kindly spent a good part of his morning scraping away as much mud as as possible so that Les Grandes Dames are standing on boulder rock rather than slurry.

From this angle, I don’t think either of them are looking too bad.  Delia is on the left, while Vitamin is blacker and is mostly wearing hay.

Their Boudoir (or Minion Shed) is much loved and I am seriously considering asking OH to paint it pink to suit the mood and the lifestyle.

Les Grandes Dames have finally discovered the shed’s charm and use to it to shelter from the bad weather.  When it gets properly cold again, I will put Delia’s rug back on but she has much more of a sparkle in her eye when she is not wearing it and tends to venture forth into the big field round the back.  I took the rug into my house to dry and it weighed a ton, with all the water on or in it.

Delia’s glint …..

Vitamin is so like her son, Indy.  Same silly grin!

So onwards and upwards.  Rugs on, rugs off, food in, muck out, me splat!

Do you remember this little Lambie?

And all his trials and tribulations?

The terrible joint-ill that took numerous visits to the vet, daily injections of antibiotics and endless physio, comfrey poultice and joint massages?

Do you remember that he was so small, he could fit in a foot warmer.

And BeAnne was his furry Mother…..

And I was his human Mother (or Muzzah, as he calls me – with his slight German accent).  Every evening, he would sit on my shoulder or my lap and go to sleep while I massaged away the old rock-solid sheep scour using melted coconut oil.

I was desperate to get Lambie to eat and would leave little things to tempt him as well as feed him endlessly small amounts of “bottle”.

Well, Lambie is not so little anymore!

He has beautiful thick ringlet wool.

He has two best friends and they are a happy little flock.

And in return for all the love I gave him, Lambie has taken little Lambster under his woolly wing.  They are the best of friends and Lambie is teaching him all he knows.  They play gentle butting games together and it is a joy to watch little Lambster coming out of his shell.  He had a very poor start in life.

I have said it before and I will probably say it again, but sheep are very under-estimated.  Lambie has brought such joy into my life.  He is one of the best members of the family.  His loyalty and devotion know no bounds and his happy optimistic cheeriness would put a smile on the most hardened soul.

Esja went for her first ride out.  She has been backed/trained in the indoor school and her 1/2 mile walk to Thordale.   Bjørn Roar Larsen, her trainer, has taken everything slowly and, totally based on Esja’s progress, today was considered an auspicious day.

I accompanied Esja/Bjørn on Haakon, who I chose carefully as the safest and calmest option, after careful thought and consideration.

Fool, that I was.  The ears tell a different story.

Esja was hoof-perfect.  The proof is Bjørn’s cheesey grin.  He said she felt incredibly safe and he trusted her completely.

Even Tiddles running up and down the fence, plus meeting Delia and Vitamin in their grazing field, had no effect on Esja.

She tölted beautifully when asked, trotted enthusiastically up the hill and enjoyed herself immensely.

Haakon, on the other hand, was horrible.  He bounced, threatened, wanted to go fast, refused to walk slowly or nicely, and we fought every inch of the way to the point I was jealous of Bjørn and the nice time he was obviously having.

We didn’t go far – a few miles in walk, trot and tölt (Esja) while Haakon did what is known as “indignant chicken”.

So, well done Esja and Bjørn.

Maybe I should sell Haakon and keep Esja as my riding horse.  At least I would have a nice peaceful ride without any histrionics keeping me on my toes.  I even told the old fool that I would prefer to get off and walk home than ride him and that is my ultimate threat.

See this electric fence?  Every single pony in the field (all 7) had broken through and were playing on the track.

It was our own fault.  The electric fence energiser was not working and we had taken it home to mend.  We stupidly thought that with all the grass being on one side, they wouldn’t bother crossing the fence.

Oh, but they did.  I received a phone call this morning telling me everyone was dancing around on the track.

By the time we arrived with the mended energiser, they had been put back into the field but we could see them thinking “ha, ha, not for long”.

And I am sorry but I inwardly smiled when there was the sound of “thwack” – nosey on fence. This mare was very unimpressed.  They each tried it out.

Lyra is in with this group. They are all about her age and it will do her good to be with these girls.

She hasn’t been with young mares/filles for a while so she is watching everyone and trying to find her place in the herd.

I tried to describe Lyra to a friend who is keeping an eye on her, and the best I could do was “well, she is black, with ringlet-like ends to her mane”.

I should’ve just said – “she is the one you will never get near because you aren’t Daisy”.

So now let’s hope all ideas of escape are gone as the girls realise that fence is on and I mean business.

All I have done today is run round after ponies.  The b****y Old Bats went and “come-hithered” to Taktur who ran up and down the fence screaming his head off.  They are now in the stable and I am covered in mud.  They can go out with Hetja tomorrow.

Fed up. I want to keep goldfish.

So I find these two urchins wandering around outside the house begging to go into the stable.  I must’ve not shut the gate properly at some time and they found out and exploited my error.

They dashed into the stable offering to clear up any leftovers.

I shut the gate on them and left them to it.

Next “The Old Bats”, as they are now known came rushing over from their 25 acre field to tell me they hated the rain, the mud and the grass was not long enough.  But mostly they hated their shed (ex-Minion) that is stuffed full of silage and hay,  from which they can come and go at choice.

So I directed them to the stable where the Minions were.  They side-stepped that idea completely and rushed off to hang around by the outside of the house.

This is not ideal as there is a stallion at the bottom of this hill.  To be fair, Taktur lifted his head, nodded and then went back to eating.

So, for the time being, the Old Bats are allowed here if they promise not to give Taktur any “come hither” looks.

And my dilemma?

Do I force the ladies into a stable despite their utter loathing of them?  Will their bodies work better if their internal furnaces are working and I let them stay outside where there is plenty of available shelter either in or out.  Delia gets a good feed twice a day.  Vitamin thinks she does!

I will get the others in, I think, tonight.  Hetja et al get the indoor school while Taktur and his lot get the stable. There will have to be much juggling to achieve this.

Why is my life so complicated?