A Northern Journal

So, here I am, sitting listening to the ‘Lord of the Rings’ CD creating a new blog and browsing the internet on a dark and windy night wondering what we used to do before the internet and Web 2.0. Probably sitting in front of the TV instead! Of, course, now we can broadcast to the world all our musings, even from the remote islands we live in.

It means I can keep in touch with distant family and friends at the touch of a button as they are scattered across the British Isles with one or two further afield. Handy for someone who grew up in the Highlands of Scotland, studied in Aberdeen and moved (on my own with my cat) away from family to Orkney at a tender age (oh, so long ago!) to take up a new job. Who would have thought that the world could be brought so close.

Some 17 years on, married, with feline companions and 3 ponies (1 foal), I am still here, not necessarily liking the dark winters or horrible ferry journeys and missing the trees and forests of where I grew up, well established in my chosen home with ‘roots’ that appear to have grown inexorably deep into the fertile Orkney soil. So, Here I am!

Driving into town the other night, I saw a property with Christmas lights on and shops in town have their displays up. In fact, I saw Christmas stuff in shops back in the beginning of October. Come on guys! Don’t you realise it is only the middle of November.Orkney is catching up with the rest of the country in that this ‘festival’ is coming earlier every year. Am I being a horrible miser or what?

Now, I like Christmas but over the years have become disheartened at the increasing and blatant commercialisation of a Christian festival. Now, I am not religious by any means of the word but I believe that it is a spiritual time of the year which should be respected. I like the time of year for reflection and looking forward, for thinking of friends and family (both here and not with us) and I like lighting a candle (usually several) in the dark nights to herald the coming of lighter days.

I try not to think about gift buying until Decmeber but having it shoved in my face every time I go shopping now really irks me and the uncalled for panic sets in when I start thinking I MUST do my Xmas shopping or it will never be done on time. But, it is not that ‘I must’… but society saying ‘you must’! Huh! Well of course, I mustn’t and won’t get dragged onto the bandwagon this early on. December 25th comes around quick enough, so whilst the shops and many other people are gearing up, I hope to remain unattached to the run-up until it is absolutely necessary.

When the time comes will enjoy (in that quiet sort of panicky way that can only come with Christmas shopping) browsing the lovely shops in Stromness, and maybe will pay a visit to those in Kirkwall, and I’ll look forward to putting the sleigh bells and tinsel on my long suffering Highland Pony and delivering the Christmas cards to neighbours on horseback. Now that personal touch is what Christmas is all about!

…the horse shoes, that is. I have finally acknowledged defeat in the sense that I am not getting the horse riding in now the nights are dark and the weekend weather is often a lot to be desired.

Last weekend a front shoe had to come off as it had slipped back and half the nails were pulled and the hoof breaking. Now, this is no mean feat when you don’t have the tools. I spent 20 mins with a hammer, heavy duty screw driver and a variety of pliers and only managed to loosen one of the 3 nails remaining. Good job ‘T’ is cool, calm and collected and put up with the heaving, hammering and pulling of his foot. Hubby, then took over, but it still took two of us a further 10 minutes to finally persuade the shoe to come off after prising the clenches up to losen the nails.

So Thorf had 3 shoes all week, and he is now completely shoeless, the farrier having been this afternoon and expertly removed them and trimmed his feet. I call this his stealth mode as we can now quietly sneak along the road. No more metallic clip cops. It will taken him a peedie while to get used to being shoeless as he may be tender on his feet a little while, but it is worth it… fields not cut up with, some money saved and more importantly the hoofs get a chance to grow the nail holes out as ‘T’ will be shoeless for 2 to 3 months. Oh yes! And it doesn’t hurt so much if he accidently stands on you!

What a noise little horses can make, then add in some more, when the Highland starts neighing too. If this is a sign of things to come when the real weaning happens, I might not be too popular in the neighbouthood.

The wee man, is a pretty independant little so and so and doesn’t mind being taken out for walks on his own and he spends a lot of his time at the opposite side of the field to mum. I have therefore decided it is a good idea to start separating the mare and foal for short times to get them used to the idea. ‘Wee man’ goes in the stable, whilst ginger girl stays outside with a handful of pony nuts in a bucket. Now wee man is pretty cool about it all, but the mare is neighing madly and running about the field until she realises her peedie boy isn’t coming back any time soon. Thereafter, the occasional high pitched neighs echo across the hill.

Two hours later the wee man is ever so chuffed to rejoin mum and have a sook of milk, then run off to be on his own again. Ah! the joys of weaning to come! 

Think of the situation… 6.45am, it’s dark, it’s cold, it is not snowing yet, but the road is icy as I lead Thorf down the road to the field, the neighbour’s postbox jumps out of the dark and frightens me yet again (well not really, I have got used to it being there). I trundle back up the 100 yards… um! no little ponies greeting me as is often the case. I didn’t think much of it and reckoned they were on the top part of the field behind the sheds sheltering… nothing unusual there.

Anyway, I clean out the stable, refill haynet and water, then go to dump the muck on the dung heap. Imagine, to my horror I see a gate (not on hinges) partially open (thought it was tied). It was Shetland foal size wide. The air was a little blue as I didn’t relish the idea of rounding up two ponies in the dark, let alone trying to catch the beggars… which self respecting native pony is going to come back to a muddy field when there is a lot of grass elsewhere? I go into the field and immediately go ankle deep in squelchy muddy soil where the old dung heap used to be and had been filled in. I called. No sign. My heart sank. I called again.

To my complete and utter relief I saw 4 eyes reflecting back at me in the light of my head torch from up the field. I knew they were the little ones… too high for a cat. One set of eyes was just a little lower than the other and the two ponies looked at me out of the darkness wondering what all the fuss was about and why did this silly human wake them up. Phew!