The Arctic weather has frozen the water supply to the stable yard. Automatic water bowls are empty and festooned in icicles and buckets are freezing over in the night.

The Boss is filling large troughs from a water container transported on his big yellow digging machine. At the sound of its approach, Ladies at the Yard rush across the snow to scoop up the precious liquid.

The digger, used to bring rolls of haylage from up the lane on its big prongs, is surprisingly versatile. Recently, a small crowd of us watched fascinated as its great extending arm hovered above the horse walker dispensing a shower of grit from what looked like a giant mincing machine.

Daniel, whose striped face always hangs inquisitively over his stable door, was most intrigued. His next-door neighbour, Mrs Horse, who hates heavy plant machinery, hid at the back of her stable.

Baby Horse was also worried, his mad amber eyes taking in the wonder of the operation. Perhaps he had heard a nasty rumour that less useful members of the community might be fed through it.

Our horses continue to enjoy a winter holiday as the icy lane is too treacherous to ride on.

Some horses at the yard are going out in the fields while others are let loose in the school. After days of plodding round on the horse walker, we felt ours were in need of a proper leg-stretch. On Sunday, we turned all three out on a field of sparkling, powdery snow high above the frozen canal.

The boys lolloped about a bit, squabbled over a patch of withered nettles and ran out of ideas. Leaning hopefully on the gate, they were in for a nasty shock.

Enter Mrs Horse, prancing over the snow in the very latest in purple outdoor coats.

“Wot’s she want when we’re just ’avin’ a quiet break?” said Daniel, watching with growing alarm as the gate was opened to admit the snorting black mare. She bustled past the boys and galloped across the glistening white landscape.

“S’pose I better show sum willin,’” said Daniel as Steve, Jenny, Jack and Esme waited expectantly for him to do something. “If I fool abart, I might ge’ mi lunch.”

It was the first time we had turned our three horses out together and it was wonderful to watch them dashing through the snow under a clear blue sky.

As we led all three carefully back down the hill, Baby slipped on compacted snow, almost sat down and skiied to the bottom. Safely back in his box, Daniel ravenously munched Steve’s currant slice. “Yer need more grub to keep yer strength up,” he said.

Steve Wright & Jenny Loweth