The Simple Woman's Daybook - August

Outside my window: It's starting to get dark and it's only 7.45pm.  Boo hoo!

I am thinking: I wish I hadn't told Mr O I would reduce my crafting budget.  It's nearly killing me to spend such a small amount on craft stuff each month.  Oh well, everything comes to him (or her) who waits...

I am thankful for:  the fact that Barnaby is well and fully recovered from his injury.  In fact, judging from his energy levels today, I'd say somebody's feeding him when my back is turned!

From the learning rooms: practising with a distressing tool to see how to get the effect on card.  It's lovely, and really easy to use.

I am wearing: my lovely grey cardigan.  It is so cosy and bobbley and comforting.  I wear it indoors all the time.  It is my noo noo.

I am reading: 'Love In A Cold Climate' by Nancy Mitford.  I have waited all my life to read these books as they obviously went out of fashion for many years.  If you want to know a bit more about this extraordinary woman, read this.  I am only half way through but am thoroughly enjoying it.  It's very witty, things like this:
'...Lady Montdore loved anybody royal.  It was a genuine emotion, quite disinterested, since she loved them as much in exile as in power, and the act of curtsying was the consummation of this love.  Her curtsies, owing to the solid quality of her frame, did not recall the graceful movement of wheat before the wind.  She scrambled down like a camel, rising again backside foremost like a cow, a strange performance, painful it might be supposed to the performer, the expression on whose face, however, belied this thought.  Her knees cracked like revolver shots but her smile was heavenly...'    I'm afraid I found myself cackling at the thought!

I am hoping/praying: for poor Mr O who is still ill.  He gets the results of his blood tests this coming Wednesday.  Something is obviously wrong, and we need to get to the bottom of it.

On my mind: Our cockerel George has sadly died.  He was quite ill last week, then I found him on Monday morning.  Poor boy.  I don't know what was wrong with him.  I don't think it's red mite as all the other chickens are fine.  I really miss him.  How silly, to be attached to a bird like that.

I am creating: cards, of course!  Commissions are like buses - you don't see any for ages, and then suddenly you get three at once.  A wedding card for Priscilla to send to Hong Kong, and a card for a friend's sister and her son.  Plus my own son next week, so I'm not idle!

I am hearing: Stephen Fry narrating a wildlife documentary.

From the kitchen:  I made a strawberry cheesecake yesterday.  It was low-fat (a Slimming World recipe) and absolutely delicious.  I used leaf gelatine for the first time in my life - fascinating stuff. 

Noticing that: the creative side of me is becoming quite dominant.  I am having 4-5 hours sleep a night as I lay there with card making ideas running through my head.  I am seeing 'design' everywhere, especially in one particular cinema advert.  I don't know how else to describe it.  I see things in terms of pattern and colour and whether things go together or not.  This is a completely new experience for me.  It's a bit mad but I'm thoroughly enjoying it!

Around the house: I am bracing myself for removing every single book from the book case, dusting them and putting them all back again.  Thank goodness for libraries.

One of my favourite things:

I don't use a diary, I use a journal, and everything is written in it, from my inspirations to shopping lists. I was thrilled to find this  Cath Kidston version in Waterstones, and even more thrilled that Mr O was willing to buy it for me!
This is one of the inside pages, but some are different:

How can I fail to be inspired, writing in a book like that?!
A scripture thought: 

 'If the Lord delights in a man's way, he makes his steps firm;

 though he stumble, he will not fall,

for the Lord upholds him with his hand.' 

Psalm 37: 23-24

A few plans for the rest of the week:  A pleasure ride round Bonsall Moor tomorrow.  It's just over 10 miles which will be a doddle for the boys at the moment.  I just hope Zak travels well. 

A picture thought:  I walk round the corner, and this is the view that greets me:

Even on a misty day, it never fails to take my breath away.

Eat Pray Love

Hello all, I am not at all well, with a cough, cold and sore throat.  Not much riding going on as a result.  The last thing Barnaby needs at the moment is time off, with two distance rides coming up, but still.

So instead I've decided this is an ideal time to review the book I've just finished, 'Eat Pray Love' by Elizabeth Gilbert.  I thought, 'Julia Roberts is in the film, the book must be good!'  It just goes to show how wrong you can be!
I should have heard alarm bells ringing when I read the line, '...I can't swallow that one fixed rule of Christianity insisting that Christ is the only path to God...' I probably should have put the book down there and then, but no, I struggled on.  It has been some years since I've actually thrown a book at a wall in sheer frustration, and it's only due to the development of a certain amount of self-control that I didn't hurl this one.
The book is split into three sections.  The first part, the 'eat' part, takes place in Italy, and I did like it, as her love for Italy is very similar to my love for all things german.
But the second part, the 'love' part, takes place at an ashram in India, where amongst other things, she learns to mediatate.  She describes this like this  '...it's so mighty now that I actually can't deal with it anymore.  It scares me so much that I say to it, "I'm not ready yet!"  but then she has another go!  To me that's like smoking a cigarette, realising it's disgusting, then doing it again the next day.  
In another place she says she meets with God 'and is God.'  For goodness sake woman, are you claiming to be God then?  I read a book years ago called 'Shopping for a God,' and that's exactly what Elizabeth Gilbert reminds me of, going along some supermarket shelves, shopping for a religion.  You know, "I like meditation, so I'll throw some of that in, but I don't like fasting, so I won't bother with that."  Grrr!
The third part of the book, the 'love' part, takes place in Bali, where she goes back to re-aquaint herself with her medicine man, who predicts that she will return, then when she does he can't even remember her.  It's as though she instantly believes everything he says without question, even though she is clearly an intelligent woman with a good career. 
Check this out:
'...Ketut (the medicine man) went on to explain that the Balinese believe we are each accompanied at birth by four invisible brothers, who come into the world with us and protect us throughout our lives.  When the child is in the womb, her four siblings are even there with her - they are represented by the placenta, the amniotic fluid, the umbilical cord and the yellow waxy substance that protects an unborn baby's skin. 
When the baby is born, the parents collect as much of these extraneous birthing materials as possible, placing them in a coconut shell and burying it by the front door of the family's house.  According to the Balinese, this buried coconut is the holy resting place of the four unborn brothers, and that spot is tended to forever, like a shrine.
The child is taught from earliest consciousness that she has these four brothers with her in the world wherever she goes...'
Just a minute, didn't you say they were buried in a coconut shell by the front door?  Hmmm.  But of course, this is enough for the author to suddenly start recognising her own four spiritual brothers.  Amazing.  As if she didn't have enough baggage already.
The medicine man also tells her that heaven and hell are the same thing.  Well that's all right then.

I think you've probably gathered that this is not my favourite book of all time.  I really wish I hadn't bothered to read it through to the end as it didn't exactly bless me.  The Bible says to 'look on what is noble, what is true, what is pure and what is right,' and that's what I tend to stick to.  Mr O says he watches certain television programmes, 'because the lads at work will watch it and all be discussing it tomorrow and will ask me what I think,' which I understand, but you could watch pornography on that basis, couldn't you? 
So I think I'll be consigning this book to the bin.  2/10  Mrs Gilbert, sorry.

Slightly AWOL!

Hello lovely readers, I'm sorry I've not been about much. After a fabulous ride on Friday afternoon, I came indoors and was struck down with illness really suddenly. All I had was a sore throat, not even a cough or a cold, but I kept shivering and felt really unwell. I was in bed by 7.30 pm! I slept most of Saturday (when we were supposed to be having our Valentines meal) and quite a bit of Sunday. Mr O has been wonderful, as he's mucked out for me, done loads of shopping and all of the ironing. The weekend has been a bit of a blur really, I've felt so strange, but I'm much better now, thank goodness. Such a peculiar illness.
However, during this time, I've finished reading, 'The Jane Austen Book Club' by Karen Joy Fowler. Unfortunately these days I'm not up on all Jane Austen's characters. The best thing to do would be to read Persuasion, Sense and Sensibility and Northanger Abbey, then read The Jane Austen Book Club and you'd probably see what she's getting at and find the book a great deal more amusing and clever, but it didn't really have that much appeal, to be honest.

It's been a bit strange at home, too, as Mr O was suddenly put on a shift system at work for last week. It's just an experiment to see if they can keep up with production this way. At first it sounded wonderful, Mr O would work from 6am to 2pm and be home when it was light, so he could ride. Fab. What it actually meant was that he'd get up at 5am to leave for work, and say, "You could have Zak tacked up ready for me to ride when I get home!" Sounds good, but that would mean getting Zak in at exactly the time of day I would normally ride. I usually get Barnaby in around 2pm, wash his legs off (which I only want to do once a day for each horse) go for a ride, come back and untack him, then go and get Zak in to keep him company, and give them their tea. This works really well, but now Mr O wants me to be getting Zak in just when I would normally be out myself. I work to this time frame as I quite often have Missis' two sons after school when she's away, so I like to have everything done so I can meet them off the school bus at 4pm, but this shift system has totally scuppered my routine.
And do you know the worst thing of all? Normally Mr O gets up at 6am and brings me a cup of tea in bed, in a thermal cup with a lid on (how spoiled am I?!) that is still hot when I wake up at 7am. Because he's left for work at five, there's been no point in doing it and I've had to get up at seven and make my own cup of tea. I'm afraid this puts me in a bad mood before I've even woken up properly! So I am probably the only person delighted that the shift system has been so successful they've decided to abandon it - Yippeee!
Last Tuesday I had a conversation with Missis where she was saying she couldn't bear to watch someone else ride her horse and I said I've never had a problem with other people (instructors I mean) riding Barnaby. I suppose this is because I'm so used to seeing Mr O on him, as Barnaby was his for so long.
Anyway, the very next day I was so tired I asked Mr O to ride Barnaby for me. I helped Mr O get on and watched them sail off up the road together and couldn't bear it. I thought I was going to burst into tears. The odd thing was, Barnaby was really naughty on the ride, (snigger!) and when he came back he kept looking at me as if to say, "Why didn't you and I go? You're my mum, aren't you?" It was so fab, I think we've obviously bonded, as I used to be this way with Max. I couldn't stand watching other people riding him. He used to look at me as if to say, "Why are you allowing this?" From now on, if I'm too ill or tired to ride, or the weather's bad, he doesn't get ridden. It's as simple as that. It's because Mr O is always saying, "You don't ride that horse enough!" Well I can't believe Barnaby is in the field thinking, 'It's about time someone rode me, isn't it?'
Finally, you may have gathered that Barnaby is a bit of a bolshie sort, especially with being led on a lead rope. Sometimes he's fine and sometimes he just barges off wherever he feels like it. The day after he cut his eye, he was barging around in the stables, swung round and hit his head on a post and made his gums bleed. What a twit! A few times he's come in and decided he'd rather go in Zak's stable than his own, so he tries to force his way in through the closed stable door, leaning so hard he nearly wrenches it off its hinges. It's like having a half tonne aggressive teenager with ADHD.
I've got so fed up (and embarrassed) about this, I started to look into possibilities for prevention. The first thing I found is called a Dually halter, made by Monty Roberts, which is meant to be brilliant (and I'm sure it is) but it's forty-two pounds. Gasp! My friend Debbie put me onto a Kemp Controller, which is just a thin piece of cord that you clip onto the headcollar and clip the other end to your leadrope. I was a bit sceptical, but it only cost 7.50 so I decided to buy one.
And I have to tell you that Barnaby has been walking round like a lamb in it ever since. It is absolutely amazing. To be honest, if I'd known such a thing existed I'd have bought one years ago, even before we moved here. It looks so simple, but it has such a powerful effect on the horse. As I've said before, Mr O has been able to combat Barnaby with brute strength, but I am just a normal woman and I can't fight him. With this simple device I can make him go wherever I need him to be (or tie him up to have his legs washed) and he has no choice but to stand there. I was concerned that it worked in the same way as a Halti on a dog. This goes onto the muzzle and has a clip underneath where you attach the lead. It's great for gaining control of the dog, but it doesn't teach them to walk to heel. You haven't actually altered the dogs behaviour. With the Kemp Controller you actually alter the horse's behaviour, which is wonderful. I would recommend one to anyone struggling to get their horse to walk nicely with them.
I'd better pop off now to go and clean out the chickens. Finally, it is like a real spring day. In fact, I think I might go for a ride...
Mrs O.

Challenges For January - How Did I Do?

Well it's been a very busy month, and I have only just been able to complete as many of my challenges as possible for January, so how did I get on?

1. Finish reading 'Perfect Manners' by Kelly Marks: I have been so impressed with this book. We have an organisation in the UK called The British Horse Society, which is responsible for courses and exams you can take. Although I think they do fairly well on the riding front, they don't teach you any of the stuff this book covers, which is actually vital for your relationship with your horse. I wish I'd found this book years ago. It's got some very simple exercises in it that I'm using to transform Barnaby from being a bolshie so-and-so into a well mannered horse who is becoming a pleasure to be with. Sometimes, by the time I've fought to get him in, groom him and tack him up I'm too exhausted to ride! Using these methods has meant I can go for a ride and make it the pleasure it's supposed to be. I can't recommend it enough.

2. Do at least four chapters of the Bible Study on marriage: I've done two chapters. It's a fascinating book called Secrets - Transforming Your Life and Marriage by Kerry Clarensau. I guess anything that enhances your marriage is worth taking a look at. This book is really challenging me though. It even dares to suggest that I may be slightly selfish and self-centered. Who, me? How can that be? I'm lovely - everybody knows that! It talks about unconditional love, something we apply easily to our children, but don't necessarily apply to our husbands. It's a proper study, with sections for you to fill in, and I'm really enjoying it. Kerry Clarensau is American, and I love the way American's approach their relationship with God, much bolder than the average Brit, so refreshing. A very interesting book, I recommend this, too.

3. Make some Valentine cards, including one for Mr O: Well, I have definitely made some Valentine cards, look:






and I did, in fact, make a card for Mr O and said, "Let's do cards this year." Then I thought about it and reverted to what we really think, which is that we don't need one day a year to say 'I love you,' and that our anniversary is much more important to us than Valentine's Day, so we'll stick to celebrating that. Also, I took the card to the shop to sell...

4. Practise for dressage competition on Jan 30th: Well, that hasn't worked out, has it?! Thankyou to Jean and Cheyenne, I took both your comments on board. I do totally agree that dressage is good for a horse and promotes his health and well-being. I'm not talking about piaffe and passage here, just some basic movements would be nice, but for whatever reason, Barnaby seems very incapable and I have withdrawn from the competition. I'd still like to do some showing though, so the door isn't closed on this chapter just yet.
5. Do at least 1 map reading walk: I only completed this yesterday. It was going to be so simple, a 20 minute walk with 'Er Indoors on the footpath round the back of the riding school, past the old quarry and come out next to Lucy Goosie's house. So we set off in fine style down the road, onto the footpath and up round the quarry. We came out into a field surrounded by dry stone walls and I couldn't see a way out. I walked round and round (Tessa was thrilled at first, then gradually lost faith in me, 'Daddy doesn't do it like this!' written all over her face.) In the end I had to retrace my steps and follow a completey different path and came out through a gate onto the road. A farmer passed me and I thought, 'Now I'm in trouble,' but he just smiled and waved, so I carried on. I came out further up the lane, a field away from Lucy Goosie's house. So frustrating (yes I did have a map with me!) Tessa's paws were hot by then.
Next week I'm going to do it the other way round and try to work out where I went wrong. I was exhausted by the time I got back, having turned a 20 minute stroll into an hour's ordeal. This bodes well for TREC competitions, doesn't it? That will consist of me getting completely lost on a horse, what fun.

6. Make a birthday card for Seven: I did, and here it is:

Perfect for a boy of 8 I think. I love doing easel cards, and I was thrilled to find papers that went so well together (for free!) He really liked it, anyway.
So all in all, not too bad for my month's efforts. I wonder what February will bring? I was going to change it from challenges to 'Things to look forward to in February...' but I think I rather like stretching myself in this way.
Well I'm off to ride the boy in freezing cold temperatures, but gorgeous sunshine.
Have a great weekend, everyone.
Mrs O.

Reality Check

As you may remember, I am reading 'Dark Fire' by C.J. Sansom. It's extremely good. The characters in it are the Wentworth family. Wentworth is my maiden name, so I was quite captivated, as you can imagine. The main character, Matthew Shardlake, has a horse called Chancery. I was reading away merrily last night, minding my own business, when suddenly,

'...To my horror I saw Toky directly underneath me, staring up at me with a snarling smile, the sunlight flashing off his dagger...Toky thrust upwards at my groin. Chancery saved me. As Toky stabbed, he reared up, neighing in terror and kicking out. Toky jumped back. I glanced down at my waist, clutching the slippery neck of the rearing horse, but it was Chancery's blood that stained it, welling from a great gash in his side...
'I must get him home.' But at that moment Chancery shuddered and slipped forward to his knees. I had barely time to jump off before he fell on his side. I looked at the blood still welling on to the dusty cobbles, and thought how easily it could have been mine. I looked at his eyes but aleady they were glazing over; my old horse was dead...'

Oh no. I blinked rapidly to dissipate the tears, and hope that Mr O hadn't noticed. Oh boy, these guys had better get their comeuppance.
The book is set in 1540, Henry VIII is on the throne, and the writer evokes the period perfectly. I was pushing my barrow through the barn yesterday, when the ducks crossed my path. I felt as if I could quite easily be in a tudor market. I need to get out more.

And get out we have. We've managed to drive into various parts of town. I can't believe how much snow there is everywhere. It made some familiar roads unrecognisable, and was quite hair-raising as in places people can't use the pavements, as they're piled high with snow, so they're walking in the road. Very nerve wracking.

But at last, I have bought Mr O a Christmas present or two. It's been very difficult as every time I've asked him what he wants, he just says, "I don't know." Grrr! So frustrating. Anyway, yesterday he saw a very nice jacket that he can ride in, and plumped for it. We've also picked up Pongo's present, which is a saddle cloth, with 'Lyndon' embroidered on it, which is Lyndy's proper name. Hope he likes it.

I've bought treat stockings for the horses, and we ended up buying a stable rug for Zak, that has a neck, as I have borrowed (pinched) his for Barnaby. We are going down to -10 at night, and I just feel Barnaby needs an extra rug on. I've bought him a Likit, too. It's banana flavour, so he should like it.

I've been meaning to show you something for ages. A while ago I went to Hobbycraft, and bought a stamp for my cards that says, 'Handmade by' so I can use it on each card and just write my name underneath the stamp. I was quite pleased with it, until a few weeks ago, I discovered the Bunny Zoe's Crafts website. They sell personalised stamps, at a very reasonable price, so I ordered this:

Sorry about the photo quality, but I'm sure you can see what it is. It came really quickly (considering it was made in Norway) and I am thrilled with it. As you can imagine, it's on every card I've made recently. It's one of my favourite things I've bought this year.

I've had a wonderful day making cards for the grandchildren today. This is what Christmas is all about. I feel ready to put my decorations up now, but you will think I'm a bit mad/bah-humbugish as we have no room for a Christmas tree here. Last year I put loads of holly and mistletoe round and it looked very festive in the end. My other sadness is that we have no open fire or fireplace, which is a bit odd considering the age of the house. So I have to be a bit more imaginative with my decorating.

Before you go, spare a minute to read this month's poem on my sidebar. I've loved it since I was a child, and thrilled to find it when I googled it.

Keep warm everyone.

Mrs O.

Oh dear...

I rode Barnaby yesterday, for about twenty minutes in the manege, just to see how he felt, and he was fine. I only did walk and trot, nothing manic. It felt wonderful to be on him again, and he was full of energy.
We've been to church (fantastic time) and come home. I've just got Barnaby in and been grooming him, and soon discovered two huge lumps on his belly and his sheath is massively swollen. I assume it's an infection and we'll have to get the vet out again. It's quite annoying though, when he's been on antibiotics all week. My poor boy. He certainly didn't have anything like that yesterday. The lumps don't hurt, but his sheath is sore. I can't stand it when things happen to our horses, honestly sometimes it's worse than with children. At least they can tell you which bit hurts. And it doesn't cost two hundred pounds to take them to the doctors!
Anyway, it's all go here. We started the Christmas shopping yesterday. Does anybody else miss Woolworths? Argos just seemed to have girls things in, but the items we wanted were both sold out. It was only by chance we had to go to the bank, walked past the Co-Op and realised they have a toy department. We managed to get everything in the end.
We've also been to my lovely, favourite craft shop and bought my Christmas present. Yes! I have in my own home, though not officially in my possession, a Sizzix Bigshot. It's a machine for die cutting and embossing and I'll do a 'show and tell' on Christmas Day. You may be thinking, 'Fancy going and buying your own Christmas present,' but let me explain:-
Years ago I sent Mr O to the shop to buy some nice drinks for lunch and some foil. He came back with crisps and a copy of the Times.
So the rival to Sizzix is called a Cuttlebug, and Mr O knows this. So he got Sizzix and Cuttlebug mixed up and asked me if I 'still wanted a Shuttlecock for Christmas?' which is why I felt the wisest thing was to go with him and make sure he got the right thing. I hardly want to be opening a shuttlecock on Christmas morning, do I?
And I must spend a brief moment saying how much I enjoyed C.J. Sansom's book 'Dissolution'. It's obviously set in Tudor times, and introduces the character of Matthew Shardlake, who is a lawyer. He is employed by Thomas Cromwell to go and investigate a murder in a monastery. It turned out to be extremely good. At first I thought, 'Gosh, this is hard to get into,' then when I looked I was already on chapter twelve! It can't be that bad then, can it?
As you know, Tiny Cottage is, well, tiny, so we are trying not to buy books, which take up a lot of room, so the library is a godsend, as you can imagine. I was just wondering if I would get another book in between now and Christmas, when in the market yesterday I spotted 'Dark Fire' which is the next book in the series. I am thrilled. I love it when things like that happen. I quickly handed over the money and pocketed the book (in a very 'Artful Dodger' sort of way). I might pass it on to Daughter 1 when I've finished it, she likes that sort of thing, too.
Just a quick card to show you.

This is made using the Kaisercraft 'Be Merry' papers again, which I am so in love with, but when you undo the ribbon, and open the card, it looks like this on the inside (sorry the picture quality isn't very good, and I can't take another photo as the card has already gone to its recipient:)
I really enjoyed making this, it's like a card within a card, and something a little more special. I learned from experience that it takes quite a bit of paper to do it correctly, but got there in the end and am really pleased with it.
As you can see, it ties with a bow. When Mr O gave it to the recipient he said, "That's what I don't like about it, the bow tying." Fortunately the recipient said, "I am a woman, I can do bows!" I was a bit cross with him, though, I hardly need him to say something negative about my cards as he's handing them over, do I? No wonder he isn't in sales, bless him!
Well, we are off to Worksop now, to spend some time with Daughter 2 and the Flower Fairy, who I haven't seen for ages. We are looking forward to the tale of how she got her toy bucket stuck on her head, trapped by the handle, and had to have it cut off! (The bucket, that is, not her head!!) Never a dull moment with children, is there?
Stay cosy and warm everyone,
Mrs O.

The Time Traveler's Wife (and other tales)

I actually finished The Time Traveler's Wife late on Saturday night. It has been an adventure. If you haven't read it, or seen the film, I would highly recommend it. At the end of each year, I like to pick a 'Book of the Year' from everything I've read, and I was worried I hadn't read anything outstanding enough to qualify and that I'd have to plump for Love In The Time Of Cholera (heaven forbid) but at last here comes a worthy contender. If you've read it, you don't need me to tell you the plot, and if you haven't, there's nothing I can say without spoiling it for you, so take the title and work the rest out for yourself, it'll be well worth it. This book was a treat to read, I can't praise it enough. You have to have your wits about you, though, and think and concentrate all the way through it. No shilly-shallying here.

I am feeling cautious about watching the film now and whether it will spoil it for me, as I've just seen the film of Love In The Time of Cholera and it was awful. I was ironing at the time, and the two experiences together were enough to traumatize me.

Also, when I took the book of The Time Traveler's Wife back to the library, I told the librarians how good it was, and one turned to me and asked, "Have you seen the film?" as if the book alone were not enough. Get thee behind me...

For those of you who don't know, this is the time of year when all horses, to varying degrees, turn into fluffy bears. Your previously sleek encumbent wakes up one morning and looks like a yeti (especially if he's white like mine!)

So the winter dilemma begins. If you ride a horse with his (or indeed, her) winter coat on, they sweat to death after only the minimum of exercise. So, to prevent this, you clip a little, or a lot, of their hair off. This means they cool down really quickly after they've been ridden. This is good. But it also means they will then be cold because you've clipped all their hair off. So you go and buy a nice (expensive) rug and put it on them. It is ridiculous, no matter how you look at it, but a necessity all the same. If you're not riding your horse you don't need to clip it. Nobody pops up to the New Forest ponies, or the Exmoors, brandishing clippers and shouting, "Brace yourselves!" do they?

Anyway, normally I do what's called a 'blanket clip.' This means you clip all the hair off the neck and belly, but leave the hair on their backs. The trouble with Barnaby is that it still leaves him very warm with so much hair still left on, and a rug on top. He hates being too warm and will rip holes in the rug to provide his own ventilation if necessary. This starts to be not funny when you're on the fifth rug that winter.

So I've decided to do a hunter clip. This means you take all the hair off everywhere except a saddle patch and the leg hair. The best way to show you this is to do a before and after photo, so here is Barnaby before I started, all hair on:

Notice the particularly thick hair on his belly just behind his front legs.

This is him after I'd finished clipping:

Now you can notice the extraordinary thing about him. If you look carefully, especially on his neck and chest, you can see that his skin is black. This is very odd, as you can see from the previous photo, his hair is white all over. It's as though he was born a coloured cob but went white over time. Unfortunately we'll never know, but it is a bit peculiar. He was grateful I'd done it, though, and went out to tell his crew.
And in the evening, he was playing a game of tag with me in his stable, which is extraordinary,
1) because he found it funny and
2) because I am honoured that he played with me and not his dad.
I love you, Bardy Lad.
Mrs O.

Soapbox Sunday - Are You SITTING Comfortably?

I've been meaning to write this for a while, but I know that if I do you will see a side of me I generally like to keep hidden. I came across an unfamiliar phrase a short while ago - 'grammar snob' and I think I may end up in that catagory after this, but to be honest, I may not be all that bothered. Time to nail my colours to the mast, methinks.
Let me explain. I am from Portsmouth originally, way down on the south coast. Portsmouth has many charms, but its accent and pronounciation is not one of them (no, it ain't!) So when we moved to Worksop I got used to "Eh up, duck!" "I were badly," and various other interesting phrases, all new to me. I don't have a problem with each region having it's own flavour, it all adds to life's rich tapestry, I think. (There's nowt so queer as folk).
But I've only heard people in this region saying, "I was sat," and I thought it was just a 'northern' thing. You know the sort of thing, "I was sat at me desk and this man rang me..." Yes, it makes me cringe. Is it all part of dumbing down? Does it really matter? It's partner is, of course, "I was stood," as in, "I was stood at the bus stop..." Grrr! You were standing, people, standing! It's not rocket science, look:
He sat on the chair.
He was still sitting on the chair at 3.30pm.
So I was thinking to myself, surely there are some bastions of correctness left, surely one of them being the BBC, but I don't watch soaps, so how would I know if the characters in them are not 'sat' and 'stood' somewhere every week?
And the second safe haven, surely, would be publishing? Surely we're not going to see 'I was sat,' in books? Imagine my astonishment a couple of weeks ago, when I grabbed the book, 'The Exmoor Files' by Liz Jones from my library shelf and rushed home to start reading. There are several instances in the first few chapters where she says, 'I was sat,' repeatedly. My points are:
1. It's not a local thing then. Liz Jones is a Londoner (sorry love, but you are).
2. How on earth has a publisher let this pass? Didn't somebody proofread the flipping thing? It's pathetic. If we're all going to be able to express ourselves however we see fit, eventually no one will be able to understand anyone else (you might think that's happening already!) Why don't we just publish a novel written totally in text speak? That would be a long read, wouldn't it? Bearing in mind that we don't write 'kween' anymore, we write 'queen' thanks to William Caxton (so he could set up his printing press and get on with the job) it would be a shame to go back to writing however the heck we felt like it, wouldn't it? Soon there won't be any point in going to school at all.
I will now hop off my soap box (briefly!) but I'd love to know what others think, and if I'm labelled a grammar snob because of it, then so be it.

I do want to tell you a little bit more about the book 'The Exmoor Files,' though. I borrowed it because the jacket said it was about a woman who moves from London to Exmoor and buys an ex-racehorse. The perfect book, then... It turns out I stumbled onto a hornet's nest. The first few chapters are just Liz Jones totally and utterly berating her ex husband, Nirpal Dhaliwal, for the circumstances that led up to their divorce. I am not defending him either, but it does make you wonder if she wasn't who she is (she writes for the Daily Mail) if the book would even have been published.
Once I'd found that out, I started to dig around, and it turns out the book got very mixed reviews, as she's upset all the locals in her part of Somerset. She does write in the book that she lives in the middle of Exmoor, but she doesn't. She also made the massive mistake of slating all the local eateries in the area, claiming their menus were all relics from the seventies. It sounds as though she's actually very unpopular.
I did snort a few times about her antics with her horse (eg. feeding them on organic M&S carrots - like her horse would know!) and the fact that she can't buy anything without telling you how much it cost (three thousand pounds for a handbag) but to give her her due, I did laugh a lot when I read it, and cried twice, too (once when her horse bolted - been there, done that.) Towards the end she shows more of her vulnerability and I nearly started to like her. So it was a very interesting read, but I don't think I'd recommend it, although I'd still like people to read it, as then we'd all have something to discuss over dinner!
There, I've got down off my soapbox (where I was sat) as it's quite high up. In fact, if I was stood up there I'd probably get dizzy. Getting that off my chest has made my whole Sunday worthwhile. Thanks for listening. Food for thought?

Love In The Time Of Cholera (and other things)

I have finally finished reading 'Love In The Time Of Cholera'. It's an extraordinary book, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. It's a love story, set during the last century, possibly in Columbia (although I'm not convinced). You can feel the heat, the Catholicism, the oppression. Think 'Evita' in the opening scenes when it's her father's funeral and she isn't acknowledged as one of his children. It's the story of a young man, Florentino Ariza, who meets a young girl, Fermina Daza, and they fall in love, through their letters, which they exchange for two years, but as soon as they meet again Fermina breaks it off, and not long after, marries Dr Juvenal Urbino. (The author uses the characters' full names every time they are mentioned, which adds to the formality and strangeness of the atmosphere). They are married for fifty odd years, and during that time Ariza never forgets her. (The whole point of the book is that it's saying love sickness is a disease like cholera.) After that time, the doctor dies, and Florentino Ariza and Fermina Daza get back together. The annoying thing about it, is that the author lists all of the people Florentino Ariza has affairs with (graphically described) over those years, while in his own head, he has kept himself pure for Fermina Daza, because he hasn't got married. One definitely gets the impression that Marquez sees no problem with this, although, I'm sure if it had been Fermina that had had lots of affairs, it would have been considered scandalous.
This book does deal with death, decay and old age, which was a bit too much for me last week when Mr O had gone to Germany to see his dying brother for the last time. I could have thrown the book at the wall (haven't done that since 'Flowers In The Attic'). It is a strangely compelling book, and quite beautifully written. I had to know what happened at the end, and that's got to be the sign of a good book, hasn't it?
So I'd give it eight out of ten, and would tentatively recommend it, but you've got to really want to read it. (ie, I accept no responsibility if you get half way through and think, 'This is total tosh!') As I say, I saw the trailer for the film and was intrigued, but I would find it incredibly hard to turn this book into a film. I am going to watch it one day (alone, during the day!) just out of curiosity.

So, I have finally finished my last little cottage cross stitch. Here it is:





Just to remind you, here are the other two:







I love the fact that they are all slightly different, not just the roofs and walls, but each garden fence is different, too. As you can see, they are all slotted into the sides of my pen pot, and look very cute. I would have liked a long, narrow picture frame, so I could sew all three side by side, to make a little street scene, but I can't find the sort of frame I'm looking for. If you see one anywhere, please let me know.

These are the cards I've made recently. I kept this one simple:


But like this one very much, too.



But I've got to be honest and say the most fun I'm having at the moment is with scrapbooking. Whereas with card making, I still need training in certain techniques, and make the best cards when I copy other people's, somehow with scrapbooking, although I play about with bits of paper for hours, I find it so much easier to put together. There's something about knowing the end result is for you to keep, too. Imagine being able to stroke those beautiful papers for ever! The only limit with this is your own imagination.



I am aware that I am just starting out with this new craft, but some of the pages I've seen in books are nothing short of art. I would love to get that good, one day.

I am learning that good scrapbooking starts with a good, clear photograph, and the challenge is to keep that as the main focus of the scrapbook page, no matter what else you put with it. That is where the skill lies, I think. I'll show you some more as soon as I can, but I'm waiting for some photos to arrive, so I can use those, too.

Triumph and Disaster

I let the ducks and chickens out this morning and decided to let Penny out as well. There was something next to her, as if it was an extension of her, but when I looked more closely, it was a chick, and it was motionless. I picked it up and it was cold, so I decided to take it indoors and see if I could revive the poor little thing. I spent about half an hour trying to warm it and get it to drink, but in the end it decided it wasn't worth it and gave up. I am so sad for it, and sad for Penny, too. She's not having much luck, is she?

The other bit of bad news is that our lorry failed its MOT. I am not impressed. What was the point of having it inspected first? Mr O has taken it all the way to Mansfield, where he should have taken it in the first place, and goodness knows how long it's going to be there. Because he didn't have the car, he's ended up walking most of the way home, along the bypass, until he finally managed to hail a taxi. I can't help feeling that praying together more might help us avoid these total lapses of wisdom. There's nothing to lose, is there?

The good news is that we've decided now we won't be paying out vast sums of money for Zak's medication, we can afford a little holiday, so I have been in touch with the owners of Field Farm to see if we can get our holiday reinstated. They are more than happy to have us along, so I have sent off a deposit. We'll be going in the second week of August. I am so looking forward to it. They have a cross country course, and we can ride from the farm straight to the beach. 'Er Indoors is coming too.

I have finally succumbed and moved a lot of my crafting stuff from my (tiny) desk to the kitchen table. It is bliss to have everything I need spread out in front of me and not to have to keep searching through drawers to find everything. I thought Mr O would be annoyed, but actually he's more than happy about it. I am determined for it not to take up residence there permanently, (yeah, right!) but it's great for the time being.

One of my challenges this month is to make a card for my granddaughter, The Flower Fairy. She will be three. My brief was (from the girl herself) that it has to be pink and have Peppa Pig on it, so this is what I've come up with:

Hope she likes it.

The other issue is that I've been exploring the idea of some sort of logo for my cards. I came up with a 'Muddy Puddles' design, but I've decided to use this for the time being:

'Squigglypigs' is part of my email address. I needed something urgently when I set up facebook last year, and the word 'squigglypigs' popped into my head. I've become rather fond of it since then, so I'm sticking with that for now. I know nothing about the legality of these things, so I'd better investigate.
And finally, I'd better 'Fess up' (I'm having a love/hate relationship with that phrase at the moment) and tell you that I had a teeny tiny accident on the quad. I was trying to turn it, when I put my hand on the break but didn't realise my thumb was still on the throttle when the quad shot across the ditch and I managed to stop it just as it touched the electric fence. My leg got stuck under the gear stick and pushed it up to second gear, which is why it went so fast. It gave me quite a fright, I can tell you. Note to self: Do not drive the quad when you're tired!

The Book Worm, Part Two

This week, I decided to look at books that have had a significant impact on my life, books I'm proud to say I've read, and books that have changed me as a person. This is quite a different list to the ones I set out last week. I'd love to see your version of this list.

1. Lord of the Flies by William Golding. We read this in school, but I've read it again since. There is that juicy moment where you've read ahead at home and you know the swear word is coming in the next english lesson and you can't believe your fifty year old teacher, who looks like a battleship in full sail, is going to actually say that swear word out loud. Oh my life, and she's said it... An awesome book, though. On one level it's about a group of boys who are stranded on a desert island who try to govern themselves and it all goes horribly wrong. Underneath that it's all about the laws that govern society, about politics, power struggles, individual welfare and 'the greater good.' I highly recommend it.

2. Lady Chatterly's Lover by D.H. Lawrence. I just had to know what all the fuss was about and was met with a beautiful piece of writing that took my breath away. And then they made a film of it starring Sean Bean, so I read it again, just to make sure I hadn't imagined it the first time!

3. Carrie by Stephen King. One of my rare entries into the horror genre. I must have been sixteen. I was gripped. I probably wouldn't touch it with a barge pole now, but it had a huge impact on me at the time. I didn't dare show my mother I possessed such a thing. She would probably have read it herself, and that would have defeated the object, wouldn't it?

4. Macbeth by William Shakespeare. Okay, not technically a book, I know, but having studied it for my 'O' Level, I can tell you it had a massive impact on me. There was no such thing as an 'open book exam' in those days, no siree! I had to learn great chunks of it off by heart and can still remember them ("Is this a dagger I see before me, the handle toward my hand...) I have only a minor urge to act on stage, but if I ever did, Lady Macbeth would be the one for me. Oh for the chance to stand there and say, "Who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?" and be convincing. I love the line in Educating Rita when Julie Walters is discussing the play and she says, "Wasn't Lady Macbeth a cow?!" Yes love, she was.

5. The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham. I don't do a lot of sci-fi, but this book was truly brilliant. In case you don't know, Triffids were plants that could sting and kill people and move about and communicate with each other in some way. It was a truly gripping story of man's struggle to survive and I was in it with him! It makes me shudder just to think about it, and it comes to mind quite often when I am re-arranging the electric fencing to keep the horses in.

6. Sadako and The Thousand Paper Cranes by Eleanor Coerr: It took me ages to track this book down on the internet as I could only remember the 'thousand paper cranes' part of the title. It is the story of a child called Sadako Sasaki who lived in Hiroshima when the atomic bomb was dropped. There is a legend in Japan that if you fold 1000 paper cranes you can make a wish when you make the last one. She lay in her hospital bed, suffering from leukemia, making her paper cranes. She managed to make 664 before she died. It is one of the saddest books I've ever read and I cried and cried at the end. The actual descriptions of what happened to people when the bomb went off are horrific. Reading the write-up on it brought it all flooding back.

7. The Diary of Anne Frank. I read this when I was about Anne Frank's age and was appalled at her life story. It's probably where I get my claustrophobia from. You all know it's the story of a dutch jewish girl and her family who go into hiding in her father's office building during the war. Such horrendous conditions to live in. After two years, somebody reported them and they were taken to Belsen, where Anne and her sister Margot died. I was deeply affected by this book, and this leads me to the next one...

8. Schindler's Ark by Thomas Keneally: I read this in a matter of days, but I can remember reading ten pages, crying, reading another ten pages, crying again. There are some books, that you wish you'd never started. A truly harrowing tale of a man by the name of Oscar Schindler, a german businessman who set up an enamelware factory during the war and saved the lives of hundreds and hundreds of polish jewish refugees. Just thinking about this book could make me cry all over again.

Oh, I've obviously been deeply affected by lots of books about the war, then. Throw in my love of first world war poets, Siegfried Sassoon, Wilfred Owen and Rupert Brooke, and there I am, stuck in a time warp, pinging about between 1914-1945, like a butterfly in a jar. I obviously like books that stress me a bit and wrestle with my emotions. I guess that's something I've been aware of deep down, but never committed it to writing before. What started out as an innocent post has turned out to be quite revelatory.

So, what would be on your list in this catagory? Link to this post if you can. I can't wait to read your version, as I am always on the look-out for new things to read.

The Book Worm

I have been inspired by Michelle at Frecklepuss to write a list of my top ten favourite books of all time. Good grief, where do you start? Like her I have always read books, and these days I get jittery if I don't have a book on the go, and the library has always been my best friend.
Today I've given myself the task of taking every single book off my bookcase, dusting them and putting them all back again. It's nearly killed me, but reminded me of some of my best friends, to share with you today.

1. I grew up with a good dose of Enid Blyton (and used to spend hours practising 'forgeing' her signature!) especially The Famous Five and Mallory Towers, but was much more deeply captured by a set of books by Antonia Forest about a family of children known as the Marlow family. These books were a lot more grown up than the FF books, and the characters had real depth. It took me years to collect them all (scrounging them out of stock from my local library, as well as buying them secondhand). I still have them, despite moving house so many times over the years.
If I had to choose I'd have to say Peter's Room is my favourite. It sparked my love and curiosity of Charlotte Bronte. More of that later. The last book in the series is called Run Away Home and I never managed to find it. I have sourced it on Amazon, and one copy is worth four hundred pounds! There is a facebook group dedicated to Antonia Forest, which I joined last year, and mentioned in a post that I will now never get to read Run Away Home, and a random woman, who doesn't even know me, sent me her copy to read in the post. I was absolutely gobsmacked by such generosity. Can you imagine the thrill of being able to touch something you've always longed for and thought you'd never see? I can die happy now.

2. Although I cannot recommend these books to my Christian readers (they are not exactly family entertainment!) I have spent many years reading and re-reading Riders, Rivals and Polo by Jilly Cooper. Needless to say, they are about horses, and show jumping but the characters are absolutely fantastic. It took Jilly Cooper fifteen years to write Riders, so you can imagine what a yarn it is. My sister (The Oracle) and Daughter 1 have also read them, and the Oracle isn't horsey in the least and still thought they were brilliant. If I had to choose, I'd pick Rivals out of all of them. Even though I know what's going to happen, I am still gripped to the very end.

3. And while we're on the subject of gripping, I have to say that I have spent many, many years reading books by Dick Francis. Surprise, surprise, they are all about horse racing in some way, but they are brilliant thrillers. I love every single one of them. His main character is always an absolute gentleman (anyone heard of Sid Halley?) the sort of man you could fall in love with and marry (but not in a Mills and Boon sort of way). When we moved to Tiny Cottage I gave nearly all of them to charity (which nearly broke my heart) as my son in law loves these books as much as I do and if I want to borrow one I can always ask him. I brought my favourite one with me though, which is called Proof. Dick Francis is well into his eighties and still writing with utter conviction.

4. I can't choose a particular book from this writer, but hot on the heels of Dick Francis must come John Francome. The plots of his books are also connected to racing in some way, but his characters are grittier than those of Dick Francis. Yes he is the Channel 4 racing commentator, and now I'm going to say something a bit mean. When you look at him, you would never think that this man is capable of writing some of the cleverest stuff I've ever read. I really, really want to interview him and ask him how he keeps track of his own plots. I want to know if he starts at the end of the book and works backwards or what. They are truly brilliant and will have a place on my bookcase from now on.

5. And now we'd better get the whole Jane Austen/Charlotte Bronte thing out of the way. I did Pride and Prejudice for 'O' Level (oh Lord, showing my age!) and fell in love with it. I have read it several times since and still love the whole wit of the thing, the costumes, the letter writing, etc. But I've also had a deep relationship with Charlotte Bronte which started because of reading Peter's Room (above) where they go into the whole secret world that the Brontes' invented for themselves, two kingdoms known as Gondal and Angria, and how they played it as adults, and wrote diaries for it and poetry and laws. I found all of this fascinating as a child and read Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights. I had a row with my A Level teacher when we had to write an essay on Heathcliffe and our teacher said she always felt sorry for him, and when I said I thought he was a creep in my essay she gave me a 'D' for disagreeing with her, even though I backed it up with evidence from the book! Hmmm.
I actually got to go to Howarth Parsonage a few years ago and stood in Charlotte Bronte's sitting room, surrounded by her clothes and her things and cried my eyes out. It was like finally meeting a penfriend, someone you've known for years, but never met. I can't describe it. I felt totally at peace when I finally left.

6. And so to a man that I am going to describe as a modern day Jane Austen. I'm talking about Ian McEwan. I've got to be honest, I've only read one of his books, Atonement. His style of writing is my idea of perfection, and I couldn't put it down. The writing is like poetry, it takes you to another world. I haven't even got the words to describe how good this book is. I kept reading it on the train on the way to work and was so engrossed I nearly missed my station. I would quite happily have stayed on the train and just kept reading, I just had to know. I do love Keira Knightly in the film though, the bit where she says, "She's living in a tiny little flat (pronounced 'flet') in Balham," is to die for.

7. And now to the truly obscure. I have a book on my bookshelf called Rosy is my Relative by Gerald Durrell. He was a naturalist and wildlife expert and established a zoo in Jersey. His own autobiography is very good, but this is a fictional work about a man who is left an elephant in his uncle's will. It is probably the most hysterically funny book I've ever read. You know the sort? Where you read it on a train and laugh out loud and don't care. The next time you remember to read it in your room.

8. If I'm being honest, I'm going to have to include the Flambards books by K.M. Peyton. This is the story of a girl called Christine who is sent to live in the countryside at her uncle's house. It tells how she falls in love with her cousin William who is into flying machines. Her other cousin Mark is into hunting and women and she dislikes him on sight, but you are dying for her to be with him really. They are brilliant books, I have several of hers and read them regularly (Fly by Night is also good.)

9. I must have a place on the list for John Grisham, too. I have read The Client, The Partner, The Summons etc, but have yet to read The Pelican Brief. But my favourite one is called The Street Lawyer. It's about a young lawyer who witnesses a suicide in his office block of a man who turns out to be homeless. He gradually becomes caught up in the world of the homeless and does more and more pro bono work. There is a line in the book that says something like, '... And the Lord said to me, "Make sure this never happens again,"...' that sends shivers down my spine every time I read it.

10. I am going to leave the last word to my very great friend, C.S. Lewis. I can remember my teacher reading The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe to us as children and wondering what on earth she was on about, with Son of Adam and Daughter of Eve, silly woman. Of course, a few years later I read it for myself, and suddenly all became clear. I guess Aslan has been my hero ever since. I've loved The Magician's Nephew for telling us how it all began, and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader for making me sob like a child. Never, before or since, have I read such a Spirit filled book. I love you all.

THE END

Post Script: Since writing this, my good friend Trudi has emailed me to say that Dick Francis died on February 14th this year. He will be sadly missed.

The Book Trail (and some films!)

I have been going on a bit of a connected journey with my reading and film viewing of late. It all started back last year when I read The Mitford Girls by Mary S Lovell, which connected my knowledge of the Duchess of Devonshire (now dowager) with Nancy Mitford. (They are sisters.)
Obviously they own Chatsworth House. One of their ancestors is Georgiana Cavendish, who is played by Keira Knightley in the film 'The Duchess', so I watched that earlier in the year, and loved it. I didn't have to go hunting for it, Missis lent it to me, that's been part of the fun and surprise, that so many of these things have just landed in my lap.
Then I watched 'Becoming Jane' with Anne Hathaway as Jane Austen, which was excellent, especially as James McAvoy was in it.
This was followed by a viewing of 'Pride and Prejudice' with Keira Knightley (again!) as Elizabeth Bennet, but the other connection is that some scenes are filmed at Chatsworth (the circle goes round and round) I thoroughly enjoyed the film, but felt that Matthew Macfadyan as Darcy wasn't a patch on Colin Firth in the BBC version. I thought Donald Sutherland was dreadful as Mr Bennett (what was all that pathetic 'laughing behind your hand' about?) but Judi Dench was brilliant, and so was Tom Hollander as Mr Collins. He plays Cutler Beckett in 'Pirates of the Carribbean', and if you can't stand him in that (the character, I mean) this will truly make you squirm, his portrayal is brilliant.
Then for my birthday in March I visited Hardwick Hall. And the connection? Bess of Hardwick was married to Sir William Cavendish, who owned Chatsworth. On the way out I saw a book called 'The Other Queen' by Philippa Gregory (writer of 'The Other Boleyn Girl' and one of my favourite authors) but decided not to buy it as we are rapidly running out of book space in the tiny cottage. Then, to my surprise, I found it in the library at the weekend and grabbed it quick. It is about Mary Queen of Scots, but more importantly to me, it features Bess of Hardwick, by then married to her fourth husband, the Earl of Shrewsbury. I have only read a few chapters but can hardly put it down.
I am so thrilled at the link between all of these things, and how one has flowed straight from the other. My next book on order from the library is set in Roman times, though, so that should change things a bit.




I am still busy card-making, so I thought I'd show you my latest efforts:



This is the first card I made from my new Jayne Netley Mayhew CDRom. I hope it's obvious from example why I don't need to worry about not having anything to make a 'Mancard' with any more, as there are hundreds of beautiful designs on the CD. Each topper comes with matching backing papers, and I had the gold card in my stash, and just got on with it. This one is for my son David whose birthday it is tomorrow.

I so enjoyed making that one, I decided to make another one. I've printed the picture of the leopard onto photographic paper, and the print quality is incredibly good. I could easily get carried away making these.

On Saturday I bought a guillotine, as I want to cut neater straight lines, and also bought a craft mat and craft knife, as I got stuck on one project as I didn't have the correct tools for the job, so I will get those finished and show you as soon as I can. I also need to make a Thankyou card for Jolly Farmer for letting me use his manege for nearly a year. I need to take him a pressie as well, so I'd better get cracking.

Happy Thursday, everyone!

A Hunting We Will Go - Not!

I've realised there's been no hunting round here for weeks. Our farrier came on New Year's Day and said that the Grove & Rufford met and hunted on foot on Boxing Day, instead of their usual cavort round Retford. The Readyfield cancelled their New Year's Day meet at Osberton as the ground was so bad. It looks as though the High Peak hunted on foot as well. What happens to your subscription if you've paid and it's cancelled because of bad weather? You still have to pay hunt staff and feed hounds, don't you? It's a lot of money to kiss goodbye, I think. At least if you go Bloodhounding you pay as you go.
Everybody is moaning about the weather. It seems we are all more or less in the same boat. Even if you have a manege, it doesn't mean you can ride in it, and for some people the track is so slippery leading to the manege you can 't walk a horse along it anyway. Some people can't turn their horses out, and one friend has had to put her horse on full livery because she can't drive to the yard. I guess I should count my blessings then. At least Max is just outside and I can go and see him whenever I like, and feel his warm breath on me and hear his whicker of greeting.
We have, unbelievably, had more snow over night.
It came to me yesterday, as we drove round, and more strongly today, that it's like living on a giant Christmas cake. I feel like I'm wading through lots of icing! The pond outside looks like a perfect wedding cake, with snow perfectly shaped on it, and the statue standing on the top.

(But by the time I took this, Nine had rearranged it somewhat!)

There was thick fog everywhere when we turned the horses out this morning. There was a sheet of the black plastic haylage wrapping up against the fence to the left of the field gate. Max saw it and had an absolute fit over it, but I managed to keep hold of him while he dithered about his course of action. 'Run sideways into mum, or run for the gate and hope the monster doesn't catch me?' I just stayed calm with him, and once in the field he turned to snort at it, then realised he was wasting valuable eating time, and ran to the nearest pile of haylage for support. They didn't stay out for very long today. They'd had enough by eleven, and came in to munch on hay. We gave Max the camomile Likit on Saturday. He ate it in just under four minutes. I think that may be a record. Barnaby still has his, and it's been hanging there for a week. My darling, gorgous, greedy little horse.
The school, to our astonishment (but Missis' relief) was open. It meant Missis had to walk down there, but I dare say it was worth it for a few hour's respite. The weather is worse today than it was on Friday, so it doesn't make much sense. I have spent the day ironing and washing the bedding, thrilled that Missis is at home all week, so I will only have my horses to do. I still have tack to clean and loads of laundry. Where does it all come from?
I am also thoroughly enjoying 'The Queen's Fool' by Philippa Gregory. I am so glad I discovered her books last year. It looks as though it's going to be about Lady Jane Grey and Queen Mary, so we'll see what unfolds.

The Mitford Mystery

Throughout my life, the name Nancy Mitford has cropped up from time to time. I knew roughly who she was, but her books are extremely difficult to find. I knew she wrote 'Love in a Cold Climate' but I've never seen it in a book shop or even in the library.

As you may know, we live quite near Chatsworth House, a beautiful stately home in Derbyshire, that has always been open to the public, and we are both fond of Deborah Devonshire, who is now the Dowager Duchess.

We went to Chatsworth in May, as I love the gift shop, and we hadn't been there for quite a while. A lot of the shop had been rearranged, and in one section on the wall, was a picture of six women, with the title of 'The Mitford Girls' above it. I thought, 'Why are you telling me this?' On further inspection, it turns out that Deborah Devonshire was Deborah Mitford, the youngest of the Mitford girls. I was astounded - when did this get out? Nobody tells me anything!

So imagine my delight when a couple of months later I came across the book, 'The Mitford Girls' by Mary S. Lovell. What a revelation. The six sisters were Nancy, Pam, Diana, Unity Jessica, and Deborah. There was a brother called Tom, too. They led such incredible lives. Nancy was obviously an author, but Unity became an ardent fascist and was a good friend of Hitler's. It was even rumoured that they would marry. Diana was a fascist too, and married Oswald Mosley, which was a total scandal at the time. (And their son is Max Mosley, of F1 motor racing fame). Oswald Mosley was arrested during the war for his fascist activities, but Nancy said, "It's really Diana you want, she's involved in it too," so they arrested Diana and put her in Holloway. Imagine doing that to your own sister, especially as her children were so young at the time.

Jessica (Decca) was strongly into Communism. And poor old Deborah, stuck on the end, said that when she grew up she was going to marry a Duke, and she did.

They are also selling 'Love in a Cold Climate' at Chatsworth, so I have asked Mr O to buy it for me as a Christmas present, which will be wonderful.

I have Deborah Devonshire's book, 'Counting My Chickens' and have read it again very recently. In it she refers to 'my sister Nancy' but I never knew who she was talking about. I have read it with fresh eyes, as you can imagine.

So I am embarking on a project over the winter to find out as much as I can about the family, and all the things going on at the time. On a recent visit to the library I found my old 'A' Level History course book and bought it for 50p. It's called, 'The World Since 1900' so obviously it covers all this time period, and is quite fascinating. There should be lots of Kruschev and Kennedy, and hopefully even a bit of Peron, so I am sticking with it. I suppose if you like history, you like history, don't you?