Tag Archives: Shetland Islands

A Sudden Shower

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OH took the dogs out for a walk this morning and with that the heavens opened.  Not just a small shower, but a sudden humungous downpour of Biblical proportions.   He came home with the dogs completely soaked.  Everyone looked very drowned.

Meanwhile, looking out of an upstairs window, I saw all the sheep suddenly gallop in the rain for home so, being the exceptionally nice person that I am, I donned my wellies and waterproofs and went out to let them back in from their day-time field.

I found Lambie had possession of the shed (his little nose poking out! ❤️)

He was not sharing either and didn’t care about anyone else.

“I’m alright, Jack”.

“Anyone else” were using the gable end as shelter.

So selfish!  So doesn’t care.

I opened the gate and those that wanted to, came home – ‘Ster, Barrel, Lambie, Madge and ‘Bert.  A few minutes later Maggie and Gussie ran in too.  Dahlia wasn’t around – probably talking to the hill sheep.

Obviously Lambie went straight to bed…..

….. while the others had a discussion outside.

Lambie is less territorial about the big shed and would let anyone inside if they wanted.  That’s their bedroom.

And then as quickly as the shower arrived, the day brightened up beautifully.

And last seen, everyone was heading out into one of the ungrazed winter fields.

The sheep look like they are all going exploring into the deep unknown of the tall grass.

A New Piece of Kit

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I will admit that I do find stabbing away every afternoon making my hand-felted sheep quite difficult at times.  I have a terrible habit of tensing my jaw while gritting my teeth and this is not good.

And then, a few days’ back, it suddenly dawned on me (and I have no idea why I didn’t know about these things), that I could possibly buy some contraption that could do the stabbing for me.  Surely something had been invented.

I did my research, watched endless YouTube videos, and looked at various options and decided on this nifty piece of kit – A professional hand held needle felting machine.  The seller was very helpful and I liked the fact it came from Ukraine too.

Oh yes, this bad boy is going to change my felting life.

And it does!  Obviously it took a while to get used to a new method and I soon realised that my days of bingeing on Netflix series were well and truly over as it is also has the potential to be a very dangerous piece of kit if I’m not concentrating 100% on it – think tattoo gun only 1″ deep, ouch, ouch, ouch!

The “felting gun” operates from slow to fast with a “volume knob” and my afternoons are much easier now. I don’t soley use it and alternate between using the gun and then stabbing by hand with my original needles to make my sheep.  Each method does a different job.

Does it cut down the time (each sheep takes about 2 hours to make)? – not really, but it does make things much easier. I 100% recommend this piece of kit.  It is well worth every penny.

I also listen to the radio in comparative safety with no lapses of concentration.

More Weather

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You know me and my obsession with the weather.

Well, it was on full force today confirmed by Gulberwick Weather’s forecast on Facebook.

And, according to Yr.no, it is never going to stop raining.  However, other forecasts are a little more optimistic.

Also a friend texted me that she was probably going to rug one of her horses “with a rain sheet, no fill tonight, weather is going to be grim tomorrow”.

Well, that was all I needed to know.  I hastily phoned Daisy and we had a discussion about what to do best.  I like a second opinion. It confirms that I make sensible decisions.

And then I looked around my extensive library of rugs (yes, another obssession) and found the ones I wanted, lugged them plus two headcollars, in case of uncooperation, to the field.  Five rugs of 0g weighs a good ton.  I carried the headcollars were around my neck.  I looked like a demented bag lady.

They all knew and behaved (I swear I heard Fivla mutter that I could take her rug off next June).

Bibble looked particularly happy.

While Haakon looked fed up that summer seems to be leaving rather rapidly.

And then I popped into Tiddles’ field and put his little dressing-gown on.  I know he has a container for shelter but if the others all go off to find grass, he will be left behind bare-nekked and miserable.  He also is a perfect weight with nothing spare to lose.

Here we go again.  The break was nice while it lasted.

Sharing and Not Sharing

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Some share better than others. It depends.

(This morning I found Fivla and Vitamin in the wee shed together so I popped both their buckets in).

Waffle is a kind pony and will always share his bucket with care-in-the-community Albie who seldom eats out of his own bowl by himself.  I give Waffle’s bowl extra so no one misses out.

Lambie, of course (and did you even need to ask) cannot share.  He hates it and gets very upset, so he has his own private dining room which makes him happy.  He can then eat in peace.  The other sheep all swap bowls every few seconds which upsets him hugely and he just stands there feeling put upon.

This afternoon, Pepper would not share.  Despite being a non-eating day (she has since rallied and had her tea), she still stole Ted’s fishy shed-treat but, feeling sick, just sat with it. Upon her return to the shed now, however, I heard crunching and it’s vanished.  Poor Ted. Snooze and you lose.

Also, Waffle came up on his own when he heard me open the gate to take the two haynets into the paddock.

The rest came cantering up a few minutes later.

Newt was not sharing.

But the rest were (Silver wasn’t interested so doesn’t count).

Also later on today, I found he old ladies having a discussion about the wee shed (again) – apparently a constant source of oneupmanship or is it oneupponyship?

(Fivla was not budging).

So, in conclusion, some animals share, some don’t and some won’t.  It depends.

Smoking

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You remember the mackeral I caught with my friend on the little yellow boat yesterday when we went sea-fishing, well, I took most of them home because I blithely said “no worries, I can smoke them” forgetting what immense hard work it always is.

Anyway, I spent that evening gutting and filleting (exceptionally badly) each mackeral and putting them in a brine for a few hours to form a “pellicle” – A pellicle is a thin, tacky skin of denatured surface proteins that forms on meat, poultry, or fish when air-dried after curing or brining.

The fillets were then dried on a rack overnight in the fridge as well.

This morning found me moving my cold-smoker to one of my many old sheds.  It sat on a rickety chair I found (now I look at this photo, I think I must make it a bit more level for optimum smoking and possibly safety!)

This shed is not an easy shed to get to – I had to “Prince-Charming-like” in Cinderella hack my way to my destination through our wild garden.

All day, I have been regularly checking my smoker as a) this is a new location for it and b) I didn’t want it to stop smoking until it had used up all the sawdust.  Last checked, I have another few hours to go.

But I think I might try a couple of fillets tonight and then give my friend, whose boat it was, his fair share too.  The rest will be probably be made into smoked mackeral pâté.

Next time I offer, I must remind myself just how much effort it is.  I hope it’s worth it.