The kind folk at Transition Turriefield gave us a large bucket load of bolted winter vegetables for the horses.

So, instead of their usual silage, I thought I would give them a treat and distributed the shrubbery fairly amongst the feed boxes (old knackered but recycled fish boxes).

After a tentative approach, the horses and ponies soon realised that this was very good food.

I was always told that if you ate your greens, it would make you “Big and Strong”.  I passed on this information to those that needed to know.  I expect them to reach 17hh by tomorrow.

Anyway, I needed my horse to be “Big and Strong”, because I wanted to ride him.

Here is a lesson in riding an Icelandic horse….

To mount him, you stand your horse in a stream in the middle of the hill while everyone else waits for you to get on.

Then, having joined the others, you drop the reins while you put your gloves on.

Then you remember to take up the reins to re-establish control…..

…. whereupon you get bored of that, two seconds later, and drop them again so you can chat properly to your neighbour without all that actual hassle of riding properly.

So you take the lead of the ride because Haakon always has to be first and can walk faster than any other horse I know (ignore my feet – they do that despite my bestest efforts and I seem to be on a terrible wonk).

Next, you gallop up the hill wondering if anyone has any brakes, breathe a sigh of relief when you all meet up at the top and briefly admire the view.

Everyone then follows you back down the hill.

You drop the reins, chatting all the way home leaving the riding bit to the horses.  Mine seems to be more qualified than me.  I trust him. He knows his job.  He’s happy.

In the BHS book, it says something about walking home on a long rein and I do wish certain horses had read this book as Iacs came flying past us as he legged it with his rider (Daisy who gave noticeable encouragement, don’t think I didn’ t see) on the last stretch.

We had words.

(But it was bloody good fun)

Icelandic horses are meant to live in Shetland imho.  They love it.  Shetland is almost as good as  Iceland for any Icelandic horse.

We have no sweetitch or mud fever. The horses thrive in this environment and don’t care about the coarse Shetland weather either.  They all live off the same diet too.

Both the indigenous Shetland ponies and the Icelandic horses speak the same language.  It is always very interesting to watch them interact.  They enjoy each other’s company and get on well in a herd environment.

When we used them in the school together.  It worked fine.  The little legs do keep up.

More folk should have Icelandic horses in Shetland if you ask me.  They would smile more and worry, feed and rug their horses less.

The Icelandic breed does go way back in Shetland’s history from when the boats used to sail between Iceland, Faroe, Shetland and Scotland supplying the pit ponies and moving livestock about.  Many an old crofter will look at my Icelandics and says “we had one of those on the croft” and there are some Shetland ponies that look like cut-down Icelandic horses.

I have started a new Facebook Group – The Northern Isles Icelandic Horse Group.  This group is for “enthusiasts, riders, breeders and trainers of Icelandic horses. Predominantly for those in the Northern Isles of the United Kingdom, but anyone can join who shares the Icelandic Horse passion!”

Please feel free to drop by and join if you are interested.

We don’t want to be all alone in Shetland with our Icelandic horses.

We need to spread the word and get folk out there coming to try the unique Icelandic gaits, see just how comfortable tölt is and what fun you can have with an Icelandic horse.

I had a very stressful morning.  It was so bad, I ended up taking a migraine pill.  I can’t say more but I am very angry.

I do know, however, that I should not ride when I am feeling like this. It does neither Haakon nor me any good at all and we just end up in another fight totally of my making.  So I let Daisy ride him and she did so much better.

A small kiss on a little Shetland nosey made me feel slightly better but I took my anger into the hill for a walk to try and find some perspective on a situation I have no control over but has a very negative effect on me and my health.

I stomped off, with the dogs and the cat and turned round to wait for everyone to catch up.

BeAnne suddenly had a a great idea!  To chase the Wuss.

But Wuss had an even better idea – to chase BeAnne instead!

I laughed out loud and it was very funny to watch the tables being turned with no malice, just for a cat’s entertainment.

Stomping around the hill, now with a slight smile, I took a long look at the smaller picture ….

…

….and then the bigger picture.

Conclusion:

Some people are bastards, while some people are real gems (you know who you are).

I suppose Karma will even it all up in the end – I just need to find that balance and some perspective.

Today started off with me thinking I would learn to knit (here is one I prepared earlier she writes lying through her teeth).

Barbara, my knitting teacher and old friend, and I were talking while laughing at the dogs’ stand-off so much that we ran out of time – don’t worry, my friends on Ravelry, we have rearranged for next Thursday.

In the meantime, BeAnne learned to crochet, ….

Nellie watched…

…and Beeble did his best Mother Teresa impression.

Then, after a good lunch of laughing and soup, I thought “you know what? What the hell”.  I can get little or no sense from the NHS so I made a decision for myself.

It was absolutely wonderful, beyond words.

I had my freedom back – my legs (ok, his legs).

Haakon happily tölted along.  He galloped like the wind up the track getting faster and faster as I urged him on, always listening and instantly slowing down when asked. It was cold, snowing on and off and I didn’t care one bit.  I keep telling them (the NHS) that riding is the only time of the day or night when I don’t hurt.  They don’t believe me but it is true.  I didn’t think “ouch” once, just “wow” all the time.

And then Daisy was mugged.  Oh well.

I had the most brilliant idea this morning – Fiona and Daisy could teach Bozz-Bozz and Arcturus some simple lessons, like being caught….

…..standing quietly while the gate was secured,….

…and leading nicely (well two out of three ain’t bad).

They took the little lads into the indoor school and walked about a bit with them.  They mostly liked to go together so I asked Fiona and Daisy to work with each colt separately.

There were a few resulting issues…

…but Daisy tried a new method of training, explaining to Bozz-Bozz what it was she wanted him to do.

After that, it seemed to work fine…..

….and they became the bestest of friends

(she even let him have her hat).

Fiona had a different task.  I wanted Arcturus to stand nicely for a photo….

… and then to trot up for me.  There was a small difference of opinion…..

… and then he did it beautifully.  He is a lovely little mover once he gets the plot.

They are both dear little boys with huge potential.

I think it has done them the power of good being here this winter in my herd.  All the boys have enjoyed their baby-sitting duties without complaining.

I will admit I was howling with laughter while Daisy and Fiona tied themselves up in knots.  Personally, I blame the parent!