Ashover Show

We are very fortunate that we have a big village show here every August.  This year they were celebrating 80 years of the event.  Although I had withdrawn Barnaby I decided to go down anyway, just to have a mosey round (okay, I went to eye up the opposition a bit, too!) I got there in time to see the TARRA ex-racehorse class.  There were only four in it.  Perhaps I should have taken Zak instead of Barnaby?!  The cobs were all stunning, and all of them looked a lot bigger than Barnaby. Maybe it's because I was on the ground. There is a height limit for showing cobs of 15.3hh, but some of these looked at least 16hh. No photos I'm afraid as I decided to video it instead to show Mr O when I got home. He couldn't get the day off work, unfortunately (hold that thought!)

But if it's horses you're after, you can't go wrong with these guys:

(or girls, obviously, as they are clearly mare and foal!)

There is usually a good turn-out of shires here, but it was lovely to see them with their babies.

Have a close look at the curly coat on this foal.

Of course, not all horses are huge, look:

This little colt came fourth in the youngstock class. 

 He let me get down and give him a cuddle, which was so sweet.

And then I saw these guys, who were significantly bigger than the colt:

Deer hounds, apparently, and very friendly (but I did have a cake in my bag by then!)

Of course, there is the possibility that you're not interested in the animal side of things,

but there is another side to Ashover Show, that mostly revolves around food.  Let me explain:

Five eggs on a plate, either five the same, or five completely different.

Not got chickens?  What about this, then?

I may have a crack at the lemon curd next year, so watch this space!

And every type of vegetable known to man.

Something for Mr O to aim for, for next year?

There was also a fabulous craft tent but I didn't dare take any photos!

And then the rain came down and I decided to wend my way home,

walking up the steepest of hills

with only blackberries to sustain me.

I did see these chaps, though:

A taste of rural England, at it's very best.

Even though it decided to pour with rain in the afternoon.

(and I got home to find Mr O poorly and asleep on the sofa!)

Spike The Cat

It has poured with rain all day today. Missis kept her horses in. Barnaby looked at me as if to say, "Don't even go there," so I turned my boys out. Zak and Max were joshing each other as they ran up the field side by side. Then they both stopped suddenly, saying, 'Where the heck's Barnaby?' He was behind them, scoffing as much haylage as possible before anyone noticed. By ten o'clock, Barnaby was looking over the gate, saying, "For goodness sake woman, when are we coming in?"
Yesterday I accidentally trod on Tessa's foot as she was behind me when I came out of the stables backwards, pulling a full-up wheelbarrow. She lay on the sofa with me later on, and was struggling to get up, pawing away on the leather, until I realised I was laying on her tail and trapping her.
Today I was mucking Barnaby out, shoved the fork in and poked it straight into Tab, (cat) who had sneaked in and buried herself without me knowing. She ran off, but wasn't yelping. We managed to catch up with her and feel her all over, and fortunately she wasn't wounded. I felt terrible, I adore this cat. I did go and find her later and apologised profusely.
Then later I fed Climb (Tab's sister) stepped backwards and trod on her paw. What is the matter with me? The chickens see me and squawk, "Run for your lives!" and dash off in the opposite direction. Can't think why.
I've done all of Mr O's ironing. It took me an hour and a half. By the time I'd finished I didn't have the strength to do mine. It's amazing what you can decide doesn't need ironing when you put your mind to it.
I've finally had time to make a sponge cake with my new rubber tins (!) Lorayne said not to forget to increase my quantities, and she's right. I normally do what we call 6, 6 and 3 ie. six ounces of flour, sugar and butter, with three eggs. I increased it to 8, 8 and 4, but it still only just filled the tin. I'm going to have to go to 10, 10 and 5 next time. That's nearly half a dozen eggs in one cake! It made a lovely sponge, though, but cooked much more quickly than normal. I was lucky to catch it before it burned, as usually I can just put my timer on and leave it, but I could smell it was ready. I didn't have to grease or line the tins either, and when I turned them upside down, the cakes just fell out. Amazing. I put jam in the middle and dusted the top with icing sugar and it's gone down a treat.
Aren't a lot of blogs utterly beautiful? I have just found one called Marmalade Rose where she has invited people to commit to twenty minutes of crafting every day for a year. Pop over there when you get time, it's a lovely blog. I have joined the 'Twenty Minuters'. If you have ever watched Black Adder Goes Forth, you'll know why the title makes me laugh. I shall tuck myself away amongst the truly talented and hope nobody notices me. But at least it's a start, isn't it? I don't need much motivation actually, I am finding it totally addictive. You know I am doing a little bear which will be made up into a valentine's card for Mr O? I sit here sewing it secretly in the afternoons, and can hear Mr O pull up in the car. But there's time for a few more stitches before he walks in. Two more stitches. I can't put it down. Tessa stands up, stretches and walks over to the back door, wagging her tail. One more stitch. The back door opens. I shove the cross stitch back into my little tin, slam the lid on and walk slowly, slowly into the kitchen. "Hello darling, how was your day?"

Afternoon Tea

Things are slightly different here on Sundays. Well they are on a normal Sunday anyway, like today. There is no such thing as a lay-in now that the horses are in at night. They expect their breakfast at 7.30am, no matter what, but usually it's Mr O that does it at the weekend, so I get a few more minutes in bed, but Barnaby is soon ready to go out, and this morning was no exception, especially after hunting yesterday. He was still hunting this morning, marching constantly up and down, and staring into the distance, rather than going straight to the haylage.
Then it's 'all hands on deck' to get the mucking-out done, and the hay nets finished, then we get changed and leave for church.
It was beautiful today, especially as it's Remembrance Sunday. A guy called Patrick spoke very well. He is in the TA, with a lot of friends serving in Afghanistan at the moment, and you could see he struggled to keep his emotions in check. We had the two minute silence, a short moment to ponder our gratitude to God that we live in a country where we are still free to come together in church to worship Him, thanks to some phenomenally brave men and women who gave (and are still giving) their lives in service to their country. We will remember them.
I decided to ride Max with Mr O riding Zak, and Missis came too. Zak has had a tendon injury, but is now well enough to be walked out. I walk him in hand during the week, but Mr O is riding him at the weekend, and Zak is getting stronger and stronger. The urge to trot is incredibly strong, but we must resist and be patient. It will be worth it in the end. Missis looked down from on high (well, on Lindy, anyway) and noticed Max and suddenly said, "Well, you're looking rather pretty, aren't you?" and I realised that Max was on the bit, and looking rather stunning, doing his 'I was a Lipizzaner in a former life' impression! I was so thrilled I am surprised I didn't get a headache from my head swelling underneath my hat!
I baked some chocolate cakes this afternoon. They have golden syrup in and are absolutely gorgous, light as a feather, but slightly sticky on the inside. I used the muffin cases, and really filled them, so they were nice and big. I have had a big baking project over the summer, and, though I say it myself, my cakes have got better and better. Baking has never been my forte, but now I bake all my own bread, cakes and biscuits.
You can tell it's winter, as the ritual of afternoon tea has begun again. For some reason, when it's cold at the weekend, we love to sit in front of the fire, possibly with a good film on, or the racing if it's a Saturday, with a pot of tea each (Mr O likes Earl Grey) and either cakes or crumpets or even toast with jam. I have a beautiful three tiered cake stand, cream coloured from Laura Ashley, a present from Lorayne, or if I make a big sponge cake, I have a glass cake stand. Mr Tumnus would feel very at home.