I watched Daisy riding this afternoon and my heart said “I want to do that”, though perhaps at a slower speed.

Then my brain stepped in and said “you hurt too much, stop it.”  Haakon’s lost a shoe anyway. It is not fair to ride him out with only half his fronts on.  He gets very uneven and trippy.

So Daisy and I fed the boys currant buns instead.  I had some old ones that needed eating.  Little ears were pricked at the thought.

Indy is particular keen on a bun.

Klængur has beautiful manners, of course.  Ever the gentleman.

Iacs happily discovered the wonders of a currant bun with his mouth already full.  Badly brought up with no table manners by his mother, imho, and that would be Daisy I am pointing my finger at.

Hammy was shovelling it in.

Iacs came back for seconds (even ruder).

He managed to get more out of Daisy by doing his silly frilly face!  Her heart always melts.

The bebbies thought buns weren’t bad either.

But Hammy was like the naughty school kid trying to get himself into both ends of the annual school photograph.  He ran round to the other end and demanded more buns.

We had four and had divided them up into half each with a few crumbs for the Hoover.

There was some mugging involved too.

But we’d run out of buns so they got their noses tickled instead.

WARNING, WARNING – PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS – A VERY SELF-INDULGENT POST!

I am very tired *** sigh ***.  I need immense strength just to stay upright today and I don’t seem to be able find it.  Everything, even the smallest thing, is a chore.  A huge ginormous hurting chore.

My two mile walk was hell.  A beautiful day with beautiful views and I struggled. I struggled to see any beauty. I have given up bending down because I couldn’t get back up and that scared me so I am looking upwards now.

The island in the photo is Foula, btw, not Fair Isle, though I did once tell a gullible tourist it was Manhattan.  I think it was after they had asked where Icelandic horses came from. 

I even met a sheep.  We scrutinised each other closely but the conversation was somewhat lacking.

I took a photo of my shadow because I thought I looked like one of The Beatles in the Yellow Submarine with my long legs.

And the similarity ends there.  All I don’t need is Love.  All I need is my back and legs to work again.  I am very fed up.  Today, I have run out of steam.  I sent off my ranting email to the NHS – nothing will change and I doubt anything will be done.  They (the NHS) don’t understand.  Not like Klængur does.

I am sorry for the depressing post today.  I think it is a result of actually writing everything down and seeing just how ridiculous my life looks from the outside.

Once the girls go back, I am going to concentrate on my pre-op diet.  Like BeAnne, I only have to look at an éclair….!

Someone kick me up the arse – I’ll start looking for worms to eat next!

Nowadays, I have to drink everything lying down flat and, this morning, my Santie beaker sprung a leak so OH was instructed, on his travels to Lerwick, to buy me a new one.

He came back with this. I am not sure if it is a subliminal message from the Gods, or just my OH making a subtle statement.  It is fairly descriptive of the way I feel these days.

This afternoon, I fired off an email to the NHS voicing my opinion of the last 5 months.  Actually, it made me see the whole miserable affair for what it is.  I didn’t want the email to be a rant (I’m good at those) so OH is checking it over and turning it into succinct English.

Happy thoughts, I need a happy thought.  Here is one I prepared earlier.

My legs are almost 100% defunct.  I struggle with every day tasks.  On the dog walk, we climbed to the top of the hill, to admire the view – always breathtaking.  Nowadays, I only take all the dogs out for a walk when OH is away from home. The clock ticks with how much “upright time” I have.

The little things continue to fascinate me.

The dogs pottered along with me and had fun.  When I am in the hill, I don’t go far in case I can’t get back but we probably stay out for an hour so they can enjoy themselves and I can play with  my camera.

The horses share their silage nicely.  I do love them so much for this. I really could not be doing with a fight every day, injury from arguments and just general bad feeling.  We have none.  They are real friends.

So it started to hail.

A picture of  Bozz-Bozz-butt fur with hail bits in it.  Woof!

These things stop me being an Angry Bird!

I went outside to see the “Vulture of Doom” lurking.

Fairly scary stuff, if you ask me.

He has one of those faces that means business.  There is not room for snookums and snogging.  No room at all.  Don’t even think it.  Please.

So, I went to see the lads.  They have a pile of new silage and are most happy.

Lovely sharing and no bouncy bottoms anywhere (couldn’t you just nibble those?)

In fact, a small pony got lost in a bucket….

…. but luckily reappeared again (phew!)

Wussums, ever following, decided to get to know the field.

Oh, golly, big mistake…

I am dreading this…

and I was right…. wallop!  One stallion down.  Next?

So then Indy wanted to meet Wussums (yup, he got the same treatment).

Anyone else in the queue?

Really, again?

Are you that stupid?

Maybe if I stare you out, you will go away.

Or show you my arse!

Nope? don’t believe me? wallop!

Next, Hammy.  Hello Hammy.

You’re thick and stupid too.  I put my ears back at you, having walloped you on the nosey!

Wussums 3 : Hammy, Indy, Taktur 0

Note-to-self – I must count the horses every day!

Flossie made the “Moist” cake – we told her it looked like a bewb and then sniggered like five year olds.

While very red inside, it was delicious.  So, whoever you are, thank you for the “Moist” cake.  Twas wonderful, if strange!

I think I can safely say the epidural caudal block did not work.  LIfe still comes with the same problems  and I have done my waiting of 10-14 days post jag.  Nothing has changed for the better and OH has put up more rails for me to hang onto when I walk so that indoors now resembles an old peoples home.  I am very depressed about the whole state of affairs.

I continue to struggle out everyday for a walk on the road.  It hurts but I do it because I was told it would help. I am very sceptical about this treatment but walk with gritted teeth so that no one can say “well, you were never mobile, so what did you expect?”.

Today, Daisy and Iacs came too, which was nice.

BeAnne got in a bit off a huff….

…when she discovered we were being followed.

It was a lovely day, so rather than hold up Daisy and Iacs, I let them vanish into the distance together.

We met them later on their return,

(that would be me and my followers).

A quick stop for a family photo of Madame Grumpy’s arse, Daisy riding the Silly Frilly plus some roadkill!

I love the way these two walk together.  Dog, what dog?

Cat?  I see no cat.

Anyway, when I asked Daisy if we looked like a normal family.  Her reply was “No, thank God!”