Shetland dialect for snow is “snaa” and we have snaa.  Lots of it.

This morning, I felt sorry for Haakon who had waded through a freezing stream to get to his bucket but refused to walk up the hill. So I took it to him along with some hay.

After breakfast, I put all the Shetland ponies outside and Vitamin stoically took them out to graze. I wondered how long it would be before Fivla brought them all back home.

And then it got worse.  Really worse.  All the sheep were present and correct except for Dahlia and Gussie who were last seen at the back fence gazing at the hill ram so Floss and I went out in the blizzard to find them and to give them some food.  I needed to know they were ok.

Once sighted bloomin’ miles away, Dahlia and Gussie ran over and thankfully followed us home.

I took them into their shed where there is a haynet and a lick, and gave them a huge pile of food.  They ate it and left again and are probably back at the far fence but at least I know they are ok.

The containers are doing their job.

Newt has his own.  He doesn’t share apparently.

I made sure everyone has access to a haynet.

The snow got worse and worse all afternoon and Vitamin, Fivla and Tiddles came inside. Later, Floss fed the Icelandics a big bucket of hay replacer to keep them going through the night. I had sent her down to them with the remit that if they were wet, she should catch Haakon and bring him up to the shed.  The others would follow.  So she decided that as their rugs were soaked almost completely through and they were not particularly happy, that she would bring Haakon back.  They all trotted into the big shed.

So that’s us, hunkered down for the duration with more snow and a bitter wind forecast.