The wind has been absolutely howling round all week, and was worse than ever today. So Missis and I decided to go for a ride! It's been lovely to be able to wash the horse's legs off when they come in at night, and it means they are clean and dry in the mornings, so with just a quick brush off, they are ready to ride. Max wasn't happy about not going out with his mates. I move him into Barnaby's stable when I groom him and tack up, as I can tie him up away from his door. In his own stable, even though he is tied up, he can (and does!) barge past me, at the risk of being garrotted by his own lead rope.
We went around the nearby lanes, where there is less wind as it's much lower down than we are (everywhere's lower down than we are). Max was out in front again, and was extremely well behaved. I am so proud of him for being able to do this. He always used to tuck himself in behind Barnaby and plod along, but now he's much braver. He did lift all four feet off the floor at one point, for no apparent reason, but you can't have everything.
As we turned for home, and had a canter on the verge, Lindy suddenly decided it was time to speed things up a bit and started cantering up the road. Max just trotted on, saying, "Look at Lindy - he's being naughty!"
We had a decent canter on the verge on the way home. Max put in a big buck, as I was holding him in at the front end and he decided if he couldn't get his energy out the front end, he'd let it out the back. A woman in a black Porsche who'd driven up behind us, stopped at the junction and said, "That's not really a suitable place to be doing that, is it?" We were both so astonished we couldn't think of a suitable reply. Sorry Madam.
We got home and I finished all my mucking out. I went back to shut the metal gate and heard a terrible crash. I came round to find the wind had blown the door off the greenhouse and smashed all the glass in it plus one of the panes in the roof. I took one of the rubber skips and put gloves on to pick it all up as some of it went into the horse's field. I went round on my hands and knees picking up every tiny piece I could see. The last thing I need is a horse to graze there and cut its muzzle open.
After that I dashed in to do a frantic tidy up as the hairdresser was due. I was just getting changed (I could hardly sit there stinking of horse poo, could I?) when as I took my glasses off to put my jumper over my head, the tiny screw in the side came out and my lense popped out! Fantastic. I groped around in a drawer and found my spare pair, thank goodness. Another little job for Mr O to sort out.
I'd better explain the whole 'hair' saga. Do other women find hair complicated? For the last six years I've had long hair. Most people who work with horses end up with very short hair, or hair long enough to put in a pony tail, because it's dangerous to bend over to pick up a horse's foot, with hair covering your face so you can't see what you're doing. I was also working in an office, and had time to do my hair before work, so it wasn't a problem. But when we moved here last year, I found it was so windy, my hair kept blowing in my mouth, even though it was tied back, and believe me, when you're wearing rubber gloves, so you can pick up droppings, you don't want to be pulling hair out of your mouth with the same gloves! Plus, because it's pointless having a shower and washing your hair before you do the horses, I was washing my hair afterwards, and it seemed to take forever.
So in March this year I decided to get my hair cut, and I decided to go for a layered bob. Big mistake. I hated it the moment the hairdresser had finished it. It was like a mop on my head. I looked like a Beatle. And then, to top it all off, when I got home, Mr O said, "Oh you look like your mother." I think he was trying to be kind.
So I decided to go back to growing it, but then obviously heard about this mobile hairdresser. He came in, I said, "Let's talk about hair," and made the decision to have a proper bob. This is because we are going to a Christmas 'do' in December and my hair wouldn't be long enough to do anything special with by then, so I have to at least go with some sort of style. So he cut it, and it looks wonderful. I am so pleased. And to top it all, he charged me sixteen pounds. I normally pay twenty-five pounds at the hairdressers, so I am very impressed.
The other thing is that he is coming on the day of the party at 5pm to do a wash, cut and blowdry so I will go out looking the best I can. I am thrilled at this, as I was so stressed last year as I couldn't get anyone to do it. I am so blessed.
After he'd gone there was a knock on the door and when I opened it a man stood there with some parcels in his hand saying he was from a farm up the road and signed for these packages by mistake. His wife had read the labels and realised they weren't for them, and sent him up to me. I couldn't think what they were, so opened them quickly, to discover my seat cushions, curtains and tablecloth. How thrilling! They weren't due to be delivered until the end of the month. So the table cloth is in place, as are the seat cushions. All we need now is some curtain hooks. What an excellent day.
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