It is traditional that the British always talk about the weather. All I can say is, if you've ever wondered why, come and live here for a while, and the reason will become obvious. Yesterday it snowed every hour, on the hour. In between it was brilliant sunshine. I got the horses in at 1pm as it was blizzarding. But today was the first really sunny day since I-don't-know-when. Spring is in the air, and not a moment too soon.
Yesterday I had Seven and Nine before school, so Pongo could take Missis to the station. Because of that I was late doing the horses, and it seemed to take me forever to muck out. It always does on the first day Missis is away, I wonder why that is? (Answers on a post card!)
I also had the boys after school and in the evening so Pongo could go and play tennis, so I ended up babysitting until ten o'clock.
I did get to do some sewing, though, and started a new cross stitch, which is quite cute. Plus I managed to watch 'Becoming Jane'. Somebody should have told me James McAvoy is in it. If I'd known that I'd have watched it ages ago. Anne Hathaway is very good as Jane Austen. Her accent is quite good. But the real scene stealer has got to be Julie Walters as Jane's mother. You can see if her mother was really like that, that she would be her inspiration for Mrs Bennett. But James McAvoy...
I managed to be a lot quicker today, largely due to the fact that Mr O fed round before he went to work, so I just had to swap rugs and put all the horses out. I was, in fact, so much quicker that I decided to do some 'work' with Max in the afternoon. I set out the obstacles in the lunge pen and took him in (after a good groom, and general smooching around). He had one look at the sacks-on-sticks and went, 'Oh yes, I remember those,' and put his head down for some serious eating. I had him on the lunge line and picked his head up and we started weaving in and out of the sacks. Last time I just made him walk past them, this time we walked in between. He had a little look, but didn't really hesitate. It was a bit windier today than it was last time, which was handy, as it flapped the sacks about, but Max didn't care at all, and stood eating the grass about four inches away from them. Not too stressed, then?
I put two buckets in front of the rubber matting (buckets are very contrary - on the surface terrifying, but could contain food) and walked Max in between. He didn't hesitate. We went round and round, pausing every so often to snatch some grass. Horses are said to be 'trickle feeders'. Max thinks this is a highly overrated concept, and prefers scoffing as much as possible, in the shortest possible time, so he did.
In the end I asked him to walk onto the rubber matting, which he did. Then I halted him, and asked him to step backwards off it, which he also promptly did. I was thrilled. It was such a sunny afternoon, I decided to go for a walk with him, so we set off up the road. We passed a big lorry with a hi-ab on the back, parked on the lane. Max walked past without a hint of spookiness whatsoever. Don't forget this is the horse that passed two fire engines, an ambulance and an over-turned car a couple of weeks ago, not to mention the helicopter. You never can tell with horses.
We walked up to Terrifying Rock. I gradually moved him closer. He didn't take any notice of the rock. I nudged his head towards it. He was inches away. I said, "Look Max, Terrifying Rock!" He said, "Yes mum, very nice, but it's right next to Delicious Grass!" He ate grass. We strolled home. I still love him.
Thursday, 11 February 2010
Tuesday, 9 February 2010
Join Up
Poor Mr O was woken by the sound of his mobile going off at 5.30am and again at 5.55. It was the alarm company to say the alarm had gone off at work and could he go and check it out. This was fine when we lived in Worksop, a mere ten minutes by car to where Mr O works, but now he is forty-five minutes away, and isn't the first person on the list to receive a call. Where were you all, huh? So Mr O had no choice but to get up and go to work, sans tea, sans breakfast, sans everything.
My alarm clock (Barnaby) went off at 6.50 and I decided to get up, so staggered downstairs and outside, to be greeted by a mini-blizzard. I decided that horses are, in fact, horses, and turned them all out. This hadn't been the original plan, I'd meant to do some work with Max, but thought it would be a bit mean while it was actually snowing, so decided to muck out instead.
Update: the rubber matting in Zak's stable is fabulous. It takes me ten minutes to muck out instead of forty-five. What a blessing. I just sweep all the muck to the front, shovel it into the barrow, and Bob's your uncle, Fanny's your aunt, there's a clean stable. I put half a bale of fresh straw down and it's fit for the King's Horse.
I must tell you, though, that when I went to turn Max out, I put his head collar and lead rope on as usual, opened the stable door, stepped right in, facing him, and made him walk backwards six steps before turning him out. It was worth it just to see the look on his face. It said, "You don't do that to me! Who do you think you are?" but he still did it. By golly, he is going to learn to respect my space if it's the last thing I do.
We got the horses in at lunch time, and I decided to take Max down to the manege. I just put his lungeing bridle on, no saddle, and took a lunge line with me. We walked down to the livery yard, enjoying the view together, and got to the manege. I let him off the lunge line, and sent him away. There are two cute mares in a little paddock quite near one end of the school, so Max set off to join them. They didn't take much notice of him, so he went bucking and leaping round the school. I swooshed behind him with the looped up lunge line, to keep him going. He stopped dead again, imploring the mares to notice him, but they gave him the cold shoulder. He turned to look at me. I walked up to him, stroked him and walked off again, but he didn't follow me.
I sent him off round the school again. Ideally this would be a round pen, but it didn't really matter. I have loose-schooled Max quite often in the past, and can actually say, "...Aaaand Max, Turn!" and he will do it on command.
Anyway, he kept trollying round, but got a lot slower, then really started to walk round with his head low down, which is apparently a good sign. I moved in, eyes down, and turned in front of him and walked off, and to my absolute joy, he followed me. I burst into tears, and really struggled to stay calm and keep the momentum. I gave him a rub on the forehead, and clipped the lunge line back on.
Then I stood about four feet away from him and called him to me, and he looked at me in astonishment, then walked towards me and stopped. I don't know which of us was the most surprised.
Then I made him back up. I really had to concentrate to stay on track, as I was feeling pretty emotional by now. I wiggled the leadrope in front of him, and he immediately and smartly took three paces back. It was the most massive bit of obedience I've ever got from him. I repeated the requests, and he did them again. I gave him another rub on the forehead, and led him out of the arena.
He walked behind me, all the way home, quietly, with his head down, ambling along at perfect peace with the world. I paused at 'Terrifying Rock' for him to have a sniff. I led him up to it, and he completely ignored it and ate the grass about four inches away from it. Bizarre! Normally it is the scariest thing in the world, and well worth a little leap around. Today... nothing.
We got back to the stables, and the next most striking thing was Barnaby's attitude to Max. Barnaby had his ears back, looking very aggressive, as if to say, "Why have you been out?" and Max showed him his teeth, saying, "I don't have to listen to you, I've got mummy!"
Then Barnaby tried to insist that they groom each other, and Max made no move to go near him. I stood and groomed him, and stroked him all over, right up to his ears, which he normally hates, and he stood there motionless and let me do it. Altogether it was a thrilling experience and very emotional. I do love this horse, and so want him to be okay with me. I think today, we may have made a breakthrough.
My alarm clock (Barnaby) went off at 6.50 and I decided to get up, so staggered downstairs and outside, to be greeted by a mini-blizzard. I decided that horses are, in fact, horses, and turned them all out. This hadn't been the original plan, I'd meant to do some work with Max, but thought it would be a bit mean while it was actually snowing, so decided to muck out instead.
Update: the rubber matting in Zak's stable is fabulous. It takes me ten minutes to muck out instead of forty-five. What a blessing. I just sweep all the muck to the front, shovel it into the barrow, and Bob's your uncle, Fanny's your aunt, there's a clean stable. I put half a bale of fresh straw down and it's fit for the King's Horse.
I must tell you, though, that when I went to turn Max out, I put his head collar and lead rope on as usual, opened the stable door, stepped right in, facing him, and made him walk backwards six steps before turning him out. It was worth it just to see the look on his face. It said, "You don't do that to me! Who do you think you are?" but he still did it. By golly, he is going to learn to respect my space if it's the last thing I do.
We got the horses in at lunch time, and I decided to take Max down to the manege. I just put his lungeing bridle on, no saddle, and took a lunge line with me. We walked down to the livery yard, enjoying the view together, and got to the manege. I let him off the lunge line, and sent him away. There are two cute mares in a little paddock quite near one end of the school, so Max set off to join them. They didn't take much notice of him, so he went bucking and leaping round the school. I swooshed behind him with the looped up lunge line, to keep him going. He stopped dead again, imploring the mares to notice him, but they gave him the cold shoulder. He turned to look at me. I walked up to him, stroked him and walked off again, but he didn't follow me.
I sent him off round the school again. Ideally this would be a round pen, but it didn't really matter. I have loose-schooled Max quite often in the past, and can actually say, "...Aaaand Max, Turn!" and he will do it on command.
Anyway, he kept trollying round, but got a lot slower, then really started to walk round with his head low down, which is apparently a good sign. I moved in, eyes down, and turned in front of him and walked off, and to my absolute joy, he followed me. I burst into tears, and really struggled to stay calm and keep the momentum. I gave him a rub on the forehead, and clipped the lunge line back on.
Then I stood about four feet away from him and called him to me, and he looked at me in astonishment, then walked towards me and stopped. I don't know which of us was the most surprised.
Then I made him back up. I really had to concentrate to stay on track, as I was feeling pretty emotional by now. I wiggled the leadrope in front of him, and he immediately and smartly took three paces back. It was the most massive bit of obedience I've ever got from him. I repeated the requests, and he did them again. I gave him another rub on the forehead, and led him out of the arena.
He walked behind me, all the way home, quietly, with his head down, ambling along at perfect peace with the world. I paused at 'Terrifying Rock' for him to have a sniff. I led him up to it, and he completely ignored it and ate the grass about four inches away from it. Bizarre! Normally it is the scariest thing in the world, and well worth a little leap around. Today... nothing.
We got back to the stables, and the next most striking thing was Barnaby's attitude to Max. Barnaby had his ears back, looking very aggressive, as if to say, "Why have you been out?" and Max showed him his teeth, saying, "I don't have to listen to you, I've got mummy!"
Then Barnaby tried to insist that they groom each other, and Max made no move to go near him. I stood and groomed him, and stroked him all over, right up to his ears, which he normally hates, and he stood there motionless and let me do it. Altogether it was a thrilling experience and very emotional. I do love this horse, and so want him to be okay with me. I think today, we may have made a breakthrough.
Monday, 8 February 2010
Horses for Courses
As you know, I am in need of a little motivation. With this in mind, I rang the local riding school on Saturday and booked myself in for a lesson today. It was just what I needed as this morning it was freezing cold and trying to snow. It was just the sort of day for chucking out, mucking out and going back indoors double quick.
But instead, I turned Zak and Barnaby out, mucked Zak out and then tacked Max up, much to his annoyance. He was filthy, but my tack was clean, and so were my riding boots (two out of three ain't bad!) and we set off, side by side, down the road.
My teacher is called Rosie, and she's very young. Last time I went, which must have been last winter, she really annoyed me, and I came out rather depressed, but today was much better.
Max started snorting as soon as we arrived. I walked him down to the indoor school and got on inside. I walked him round to have a look at everything (lots of scary things in an empty indoor school, you'd be surprised!) and get settled. We started the lesson, and all was going swimmingly, just working on transitions and keeping my flipping flappy legs still, and not lifting my heel up all the time. We were just coming down the long side from A to C when all of a sudden Max lifted up on his hind legs and shot forward, then did it again. It must have looked amazing, and I didn't come off, but it was like riding a kangaroo, 'airs above the ground' and all that. Rosie was speechless for a while, and quite pale. The top part of the school is made of slats of wood, and you can see daylight in the gaps. Max had seen a horse being led up the track from the field to the stables and absolutely freaked over it. He did calm down again, but was very 'on his toes' and did a bit of a 'swing-round' in the corner facing the other way about ten minutes later. There are horses in the field outside the school, and I think he could hear them moving about and it put him off.
But it was a good lesson. I'm really glad I went, and I'm going again next week. In fact, the plan is to have a lesson every week in February and March, to get us ready for the showing season. I am going to go even if it's snowing.
And a breakthrough for me was that I got on him and rode home up the road, which I found quite nerve-wracking, but I did it, so I think I should be quite pleased really.
Missis knocked on my door at lunch time, to say the postman had been, and handed me a parcel. I nearly shut the door in her face, I was so desperate to sit down, tear off the wrapping and stare at the Kelly Marks book. This book has a lot to live up to. Mine and Max's future may depend on what lies between the covers. I have been reading it all afternoon, but need to read the first couple of chapters again so that I can take Max down to the manege tomorrow and start trying some of it out. It sounds very good, so I hope it works. The first bit is all about working from the ground, and moving your horse towards you and away from you, getting the horse to respect your space, which at the moment, Max definitely doesn't.
I had a look on the Intelligent Horsemanship website, and there are courses, but it's three hundred pounds for a weekend, which is out of the question frankly. However, there are associate teachers who have been trained in their techniques, and one of them is in Swadlincote, which isn't very far away. I think I might see if she will come out and get me started and show me how to do join-up. If you're wondering what on earth I'm talking about, I will try to explain as we go along, but I barely know myself at this stage!
And I must give credit where credit is due, and say that it turns out Mr O came sixth in the TREC competition last week. They very kindly sent his rosette in the post. He is very pleased, as you can imagine. He's done extremely well for a first-timer, but I never doubted Barnaby's capabilities.
On Saturday night we went to the Amber Valley Riders presentation dinner. We both got a silver rosette for the amount of rides we completed, which is very nice. It's a way of saying thankyou to us for taking part, but really I think the thanks should go to them for putting on such brilliant, well organised rides. I'm really looking forward to doing them again this year.
Just to let you know that I am still sewing away. The problem is that I am making a lot of cards and things for people who read this blog, so I'll have to show them to you 'after the event'. I did a little cross stitch in one session yesterday, something that would have taken me a week when I first started out.
I am on a cross stitching group on Facebook. I put a question on there about how to do french knots, as I don't understand the diagram in my book. A woman very kindly replied with a link to a video showing you exactly how to do it, which is fantastic. I have forwarded it onto Lisa who wants to know, too. The bears' eyes on my latest project should have been french knots, so I might see if I can unpick them and re-do them properly (after a little practise first.) Isn't it lovely when people go out of their way to be helpful like that? It restores my faith in human nature.
But instead, I turned Zak and Barnaby out, mucked Zak out and then tacked Max up, much to his annoyance. He was filthy, but my tack was clean, and so were my riding boots (two out of three ain't bad!) and we set off, side by side, down the road.
My teacher is called Rosie, and she's very young. Last time I went, which must have been last winter, she really annoyed me, and I came out rather depressed, but today was much better.
Max started snorting as soon as we arrived. I walked him down to the indoor school and got on inside. I walked him round to have a look at everything (lots of scary things in an empty indoor school, you'd be surprised!) and get settled. We started the lesson, and all was going swimmingly, just working on transitions and keeping my flipping flappy legs still, and not lifting my heel up all the time. We were just coming down the long side from A to C when all of a sudden Max lifted up on his hind legs and shot forward, then did it again. It must have looked amazing, and I didn't come off, but it was like riding a kangaroo, 'airs above the ground' and all that. Rosie was speechless for a while, and quite pale. The top part of the school is made of slats of wood, and you can see daylight in the gaps. Max had seen a horse being led up the track from the field to the stables and absolutely freaked over it. He did calm down again, but was very 'on his toes' and did a bit of a 'swing-round' in the corner facing the other way about ten minutes later. There are horses in the field outside the school, and I think he could hear them moving about and it put him off.
But it was a good lesson. I'm really glad I went, and I'm going again next week. In fact, the plan is to have a lesson every week in February and March, to get us ready for the showing season. I am going to go even if it's snowing.
And a breakthrough for me was that I got on him and rode home up the road, which I found quite nerve-wracking, but I did it, so I think I should be quite pleased really.
Missis knocked on my door at lunch time, to say the postman had been, and handed me a parcel. I nearly shut the door in her face, I was so desperate to sit down, tear off the wrapping and stare at the Kelly Marks book. This book has a lot to live up to. Mine and Max's future may depend on what lies between the covers. I have been reading it all afternoon, but need to read the first couple of chapters again so that I can take Max down to the manege tomorrow and start trying some of it out. It sounds very good, so I hope it works. The first bit is all about working from the ground, and moving your horse towards you and away from you, getting the horse to respect your space, which at the moment, Max definitely doesn't.
I had a look on the Intelligent Horsemanship website, and there are courses, but it's three hundred pounds for a weekend, which is out of the question frankly. However, there are associate teachers who have been trained in their techniques, and one of them is in Swadlincote, which isn't very far away. I think I might see if she will come out and get me started and show me how to do join-up. If you're wondering what on earth I'm talking about, I will try to explain as we go along, but I barely know myself at this stage!
And I must give credit where credit is due, and say that it turns out Mr O came sixth in the TREC competition last week. They very kindly sent his rosette in the post. He is very pleased, as you can imagine. He's done extremely well for a first-timer, but I never doubted Barnaby's capabilities.
On Saturday night we went to the Amber Valley Riders presentation dinner. We both got a silver rosette for the amount of rides we completed, which is very nice. It's a way of saying thankyou to us for taking part, but really I think the thanks should go to them for putting on such brilliant, well organised rides. I'm really looking forward to doing them again this year.
Just to let you know that I am still sewing away. The problem is that I am making a lot of cards and things for people who read this blog, so I'll have to show them to you 'after the event'. I did a little cross stitch in one session yesterday, something that would have taken me a week when I first started out.
I am on a cross stitching group on Facebook. I put a question on there about how to do french knots, as I don't understand the diagram in my book. A woman very kindly replied with a link to a video showing you exactly how to do it, which is fantastic. I have forwarded it onto Lisa who wants to know, too. The bears' eyes on my latest project should have been french knots, so I might see if I can unpick them and re-do them properly (after a little practise first.) Isn't it lovely when people go out of their way to be helpful like that? It restores my faith in human nature.
Sunday, 7 February 2010
My Speckled Hen
I don't know if you remember, but a little while before Christmas, Lisa (daughter 1) gave me this cross stitch as a present:
I was thrilled with it, and thought she should have saved it and given it to me as a Christmas present. She showed me the design she had used, and on the page was a picture of a chicken who looked just like this:
I gazed in delight, and Lisa said she would make it for me, and promptly set to work. Last night Mr O produced this from out of his bag:
Isn't it lovely? And quite a likeness. I am most impressed. And considering she has a five year old son, a three year old and a four month old baby, I'm surprised she finds the time to do cross stitch at all! Thankyou Lisa, I am delighted with it.
Friday, 5 February 2010
Less Is More
There are two reasons for the title of today's post. The first one concerns Zak. A couple of weeks ago I wrote about how to muck out (English style!) and commented that I am not a fan of rubber matting. The tradition here is to put rubber matting on the stable floor and only put a little bit of bedding down, usually shavings. I'm not keen because the horse will lay in it's droppings and make their rugs smell.
But no matter how much bedding I put in Zak's stable, he absolutely trashes it. He is by far the muckiest horse I have ever had to muck out (and I've done a few). He must box-walk and kick his droppings about all over the place, which leaves him with no clean bedding in the morning. It takes hours to muck him out as you try to save a few wisps of straw so you don't have to put a whole bale of clean straw in every day. The deeper the bed, the worse it gets.
Missis has rubber matting, so I asked her what she thought, and she said she thinks it definitely helps with her horse's stiffness. She does put a full bed down on top of it, though. I started to mull over the possibility of rubber matting. Then, to my surprise, last Saturday, Mr O, totally of his own volition, said, "This horse needs rubber matting!" I couldn't agree more. So Mr O has ordered some, and it came yesterday, and we'll be putting it down tomorrow. It's not like Missis has got, which is very hard, it's like what I used to have for Penny, very thick and spongy, and comes in sections cut like jigsaw pieces. Imagine the time saved on mucking out, if this works. It'll be a real godsend.
I have finally, at last, finished the christening card. I knew roughly what I wanted, which was:
1) it must look like a christening card, not a new-born baby card.
2) it must be personalised. If you're going to put 'Baby's Christening' you may as well go and buy a card from a shop.
So here is the result. This is the other 'less is more' item for today. When I make a card I'm often tempted to use lots of patterned paper, but it doesn't work with a christening card, and card making is not scrapbooking, is it? I'm really pleased with the result, and feel I can meet Abby next week and talk 'wedding invitations' with confidence.
My Kelly Marks book still hasn't come. I am so annoyed. It was dispatched on the first of February. Grrr!
So today I took matters into my own hands and decided to do some 'de-spooking' exercises with Max. I put a couple of (bright, flappy) feed sacks on two electric fence posts and stuck them into the ground. I pulled the bright blue barrels out and stood them up. Then I had a brainwave and got a piece of the old, rubber matting that used to be on the walls of the lorry and laid it down in the lunge ring as a 'bridge'.
I hadn't realised the three horses were watching me set all this up, and Max's eyes were on stalks when I went to get him in. At first he refused to move, and just stood, transfixed, staring at these new items on his horizon. I managed to get him in, aided by Barnaby, and then put his lungeing gear on.
I walked him round to the lungeing pen, and he expanded to at least 15.2 with the shock of being confronted by all these spooky objects.
I gradually led him round, and he snorted and stared (and probably looked rather good with his head down like that!) and pranced round everything. He went round once and I gave him a mint, then took him round again. This time he was marginally more relaxed, and at the end I let him eat some grass. He wasn't bothered by the blue barrels, just the 'sacks-on-sticks', but gradually got closer until he was eating right next to them. I was very pleased.
Then I walked him over to the rubber matting, and decided to lead him across it, exactly as if I was leading him up the lorry ramp, and he stepped straight on it. I was thrilled. He was a bit wary of the sound his feet made on it, but I let him have a bite of grass, then went round again, and he walked straight on as if it was nothing. I know he doesn't have a foot phobia, as he will load in the lorry straight away, and will walk through water, so I was fairly confident. Now I just need to keep repeating it, until I can bring the sacks closer and closer together, and get him to walk in between them, then I'll put them one either side of the rubber matting. I will keep putting different objects in front of the rubber matting, by which time Mr O will have made me a wooden bridge at work, that Max has to step up onto, then when he's confident with that, I'm going to get on him and ride him over it. I was thrilled with his progress today, though, and he knew I was pleased. He seemed to enjoy doing something different, something that occupied his brain for once. He's very bored just going out to the field, and coming in again every day.
And finally, as you know, Missis' aunt died a couple of weeks ago. Missis has had the arduous task of going to the house and sorting through her aunt's things, never an easy thing to do. However, as she was sorting through the cupboards, she came across a couple of things and thought, 'I know who would like those!' and brought them home to me, so here they are:
This is a butter dish, from the days when butter was sold in round pats. I don't know how old it is, but I think it's very sweet, and it now occupies centre stage on my kitchen table.
Then there is this little chap. Isn't he cute? It says 'pork dripping' and is also quite old. I think I might use it as a mustard pot, or for apple sauce or something.
Have a good weekend everybody, and let's hope it doesn't snow!
But no matter how much bedding I put in Zak's stable, he absolutely trashes it. He is by far the muckiest horse I have ever had to muck out (and I've done a few). He must box-walk and kick his droppings about all over the place, which leaves him with no clean bedding in the morning. It takes hours to muck him out as you try to save a few wisps of straw so you don't have to put a whole bale of clean straw in every day. The deeper the bed, the worse it gets.
Missis has rubber matting, so I asked her what she thought, and she said she thinks it definitely helps with her horse's stiffness. She does put a full bed down on top of it, though. I started to mull over the possibility of rubber matting. Then, to my surprise, last Saturday, Mr O, totally of his own volition, said, "This horse needs rubber matting!" I couldn't agree more. So Mr O has ordered some, and it came yesterday, and we'll be putting it down tomorrow. It's not like Missis has got, which is very hard, it's like what I used to have for Penny, very thick and spongy, and comes in sections cut like jigsaw pieces. Imagine the time saved on mucking out, if this works. It'll be a real godsend.
I have finally, at last, finished the christening card. I knew roughly what I wanted, which was:
1) it must look like a christening card, not a new-born baby card.
2) it must be personalised. If you're going to put 'Baby's Christening' you may as well go and buy a card from a shop.
So here is the result. This is the other 'less is more' item for today. When I make a card I'm often tempted to use lots of patterned paper, but it doesn't work with a christening card, and card making is not scrapbooking, is it? I'm really pleased with the result, and feel I can meet Abby next week and talk 'wedding invitations' with confidence.
My Kelly Marks book still hasn't come. I am so annoyed. It was dispatched on the first of February. Grrr!
So today I took matters into my own hands and decided to do some 'de-spooking' exercises with Max. I put a couple of (bright, flappy) feed sacks on two electric fence posts and stuck them into the ground. I pulled the bright blue barrels out and stood them up. Then I had a brainwave and got a piece of the old, rubber matting that used to be on the walls of the lorry and laid it down in the lunge ring as a 'bridge'.
I hadn't realised the three horses were watching me set all this up, and Max's eyes were on stalks when I went to get him in. At first he refused to move, and just stood, transfixed, staring at these new items on his horizon. I managed to get him in, aided by Barnaby, and then put his lungeing gear on.
I walked him round to the lungeing pen, and he expanded to at least 15.2 with the shock of being confronted by all these spooky objects.
I gradually led him round, and he snorted and stared (and probably looked rather good with his head down like that!) and pranced round everything. He went round once and I gave him a mint, then took him round again. This time he was marginally more relaxed, and at the end I let him eat some grass. He wasn't bothered by the blue barrels, just the 'sacks-on-sticks', but gradually got closer until he was eating right next to them. I was very pleased.
Then I walked him over to the rubber matting, and decided to lead him across it, exactly as if I was leading him up the lorry ramp, and he stepped straight on it. I was thrilled. He was a bit wary of the sound his feet made on it, but I let him have a bite of grass, then went round again, and he walked straight on as if it was nothing. I know he doesn't have a foot phobia, as he will load in the lorry straight away, and will walk through water, so I was fairly confident. Now I just need to keep repeating it, until I can bring the sacks closer and closer together, and get him to walk in between them, then I'll put them one either side of the rubber matting. I will keep putting different objects in front of the rubber matting, by which time Mr O will have made me a wooden bridge at work, that Max has to step up onto, then when he's confident with that, I'm going to get on him and ride him over it. I was thrilled with his progress today, though, and he knew I was pleased. He seemed to enjoy doing something different, something that occupied his brain for once. He's very bored just going out to the field, and coming in again every day.
And finally, as you know, Missis' aunt died a couple of weeks ago. Missis has had the arduous task of going to the house and sorting through her aunt's things, never an easy thing to do. However, as she was sorting through the cupboards, she came across a couple of things and thought, 'I know who would like those!' and brought them home to me, so here they are:
This is a butter dish, from the days when butter was sold in round pats. I don't know how old it is, but I think it's very sweet, and it now occupies centre stage on my kitchen table.
Then there is this little chap. Isn't he cute? It says 'pork dripping' and is also quite old. I think I might use it as a mustard pot, or for apple sauce or something.Have a good weekend everybody, and let's hope it doesn't snow!
Wednesday, 3 February 2010
Kelly Marks, Your Country Needs You!
I have had a couple of very busy, but productive days. I have ordered the book 'Perfect Manners' by Kelly Marks. Lots of people say it's really good and it really helped their relationship with their horse, so I am going to read it and see what I can do about Max. If I sell him I could be selling a better behaved horse, if it works, and if it transforms him, I'll keep him! So I win either way. I have loitered by the letterbox, like a faithful spaniel, but it hasn't arrived yet. I can't wait to start reading it.
I've nearly finished my cross stitch for the Christening. It's very sweet. I am tempted to show you now, but I think I'd better wait and show you the finished item. I am having a mental block making the christening card. I want it to be silver and white and pink, but I'm playing around with lots of pieces before I commit to anything.
The significance of this is that Abby rang me last week and asked me if I would make all the invitations, place cards etc for her wedding in July. I am thrilled. My first commission! And the point is, she wants pink, silver and white for her colour scheme. I must tell you, that at the moment, I'm not very keen on it, but I need to go to Hobbycraft again and see what they've got and I'm sure I'll be inspired. I just need a piece of silver card or paper to finish this christening card off, then I'll be happy.
I did the ironing yesterday and remembered to look for the crafting TV channel and found it on Sky. I stood there, absolutely riveted by this woman demonstrating card making. It's a bit like QVC though, and I tried not to laugh, but I was very inspired by the cards she made. Before I knew it I'd been ironing for an hour and a half and had done every single thing, so it must have been good. It's thrilling to see other people who want to stroke bits of paper every bit as much as I do! I am not alone with my affliction.
I made another cake with my new tins. This time I went for broke and used five eggs and all the corresponding ingredients, and out came the most enormous sponge cake I've ever seen. I think I must have always over estimated the capability of the ingredients and thought that even if you put in very little of everything, a big cake should come out. Why does no one explain that if you want a whopping great cake, you have to put in loads of ingredients? It's so simple. I didn't have any jam, so I had to make icing and put that in the middle. It was so tall it wouldn't fit in my cake tin, so I have had to put it in the bread container instead! Yummy.
(Watch this space for lemon meringue pie, coming soon!)
I sat in my kitchen, sewing away, while the cake did its thing in the oven, and was overwhelmed by a sense of peace and 'rightness' and 'all is well with the world', even though it had started snowing. I felt very at home in this little cottage in the middle of nowhere.
And, the most thrilling thing of all, I was reading Fiona's lovely blog over at Marmalade Rose where I was supposed to be looking at a sofa, which I did, but my eyes kept straying to her beautiful pink and white polka dot tablecloth. It's in oilcloth, which I am desperate for. I left a message asking where she'd bought it and she left me the website. I was perusing there yesterday, to be honest, a little taken aback at the variety. You know some shops you go in and you want to buy one of everything? This was like that. I have narrowed it down to a beige table cloth with dots, and am about to go back and order it, having gone over the measurements with Mr O last night, who knows about these things. He can look at an object and tell you what it measures to within an inch - extraordinary.
And once again we have snow. Only about an inch, but it hasn't stopped since lunchtime, so we'll see what we've got in the morning.
I turned Barnaby out this morning, who fortunately walked forward to a pile of haylage in the field, as I found to my consternation, that the string of the electric fence was trapped in the ice, so I couldn't hook the gate closed. I ran to the metal gate, and found that too had been buried in ice, and it took a great deal of frantic stamping about at the base of the gate before I could release it and close it before Barnaby decided to go for a stroll round the farm. Phew. I must tell you as well, that on Sunday when we went to get the horses in, Mr O had Barnaby and I had Max, with the intention of going back for Zak, who had no such intentions at all, and leapt gracefully over the electric fence and walked in with us! Oh well.
I've nearly finished my cross stitch for the Christening. It's very sweet. I am tempted to show you now, but I think I'd better wait and show you the finished item. I am having a mental block making the christening card. I want it to be silver and white and pink, but I'm playing around with lots of pieces before I commit to anything.
The significance of this is that Abby rang me last week and asked me if I would make all the invitations, place cards etc for her wedding in July. I am thrilled. My first commission! And the point is, she wants pink, silver and white for her colour scheme. I must tell you, that at the moment, I'm not very keen on it, but I need to go to Hobbycraft again and see what they've got and I'm sure I'll be inspired. I just need a piece of silver card or paper to finish this christening card off, then I'll be happy.
I did the ironing yesterday and remembered to look for the crafting TV channel and found it on Sky. I stood there, absolutely riveted by this woman demonstrating card making. It's a bit like QVC though, and I tried not to laugh, but I was very inspired by the cards she made. Before I knew it I'd been ironing for an hour and a half and had done every single thing, so it must have been good. It's thrilling to see other people who want to stroke bits of paper every bit as much as I do! I am not alone with my affliction.
I made another cake with my new tins. This time I went for broke and used five eggs and all the corresponding ingredients, and out came the most enormous sponge cake I've ever seen. I think I must have always over estimated the capability of the ingredients and thought that even if you put in very little of everything, a big cake should come out. Why does no one explain that if you want a whopping great cake, you have to put in loads of ingredients? It's so simple. I didn't have any jam, so I had to make icing and put that in the middle. It was so tall it wouldn't fit in my cake tin, so I have had to put it in the bread container instead! Yummy.
(Watch this space for lemon meringue pie, coming soon!)
I sat in my kitchen, sewing away, while the cake did its thing in the oven, and was overwhelmed by a sense of peace and 'rightness' and 'all is well with the world', even though it had started snowing. I felt very at home in this little cottage in the middle of nowhere.
And, the most thrilling thing of all, I was reading Fiona's lovely blog over at Marmalade Rose where I was supposed to be looking at a sofa, which I did, but my eyes kept straying to her beautiful pink and white polka dot tablecloth. It's in oilcloth, which I am desperate for. I left a message asking where she'd bought it and she left me the website. I was perusing there yesterday, to be honest, a little taken aback at the variety. You know some shops you go in and you want to buy one of everything? This was like that. I have narrowed it down to a beige table cloth with dots, and am about to go back and order it, having gone over the measurements with Mr O last night, who knows about these things. He can look at an object and tell you what it measures to within an inch - extraordinary.
And once again we have snow. Only about an inch, but it hasn't stopped since lunchtime, so we'll see what we've got in the morning.
I turned Barnaby out this morning, who fortunately walked forward to a pile of haylage in the field, as I found to my consternation, that the string of the electric fence was trapped in the ice, so I couldn't hook the gate closed. I ran to the metal gate, and found that too had been buried in ice, and it took a great deal of frantic stamping about at the base of the gate before I could release it and close it before Barnaby decided to go for a stroll round the farm. Phew. I must tell you as well, that on Sunday when we went to get the horses in, Mr O had Barnaby and I had Max, with the intention of going back for Zak, who had no such intentions at all, and leapt gracefully over the electric fence and walked in with us! Oh well.
Monday, 1 February 2010
Unmitigated Disaster
It was Max's birthday yesterday. He is 13. I have had him for six years. Not bad going, considering.
We got up yesterday and went for a walk up the road to see if it was icy, before getting the lorry out. It just had a thick frost on it, so we decided we were going to the TREC competition.
I'd better quickly explain what TREC is:
It was set up in France as a way of examining candidates for taking out rides in trekking centres, but it developed into a competition, which is now quite big in England.
The competition has three phases. The first one is an orienteering section. Obviously if you were leading out a trek you wouldn't want to get lost, so this is the test for that. You go and copy the master map onto your map and set off along the route. Sometimes there may be obstacles to complete along the way, for which you get points. At level one you're looking at a distance of 5-7 miles, and you are timed.
The next section is called Control of Paces. This is to test that you have control of your horse at all times. A track is laid out. You have to do the fastest walk you can manage without changing pace (ie breaking into trot) and the slowest canter (again without going back to trot). This is also timed.
Then comes the obstacle phase. A variety of obstacles are laid out, in a field or maybe using a cross country course. There may be a gate that you have to open without dismounting or letting go of the rope, a bridge to lead your horse over, riding under low branches etc, all things to simulate natural obstacles that you might encounter on a hack.
Yesterday we didn't have the orienteering phase, fortunately, just the control of paces and the obstacle course.
All the horses were walking up and down calmly, waiting their turn to go in the arena. Mr O was on before me, so he was warming Barnaby up. Max was snorting and staring at everything. I got on him and he kept trying to drag me back to the lorry. It took all my strength to keep him where he was. I did the gate obstacle, which was outside the arena, while John was inside. Max actually did it quite well, without taking my leg off against the gate post, which is unusual!
I got off after that as Max was still straining to go back to the lorry. I don't know if he thought Barnaby was there, or what was going on in his head, really.
So I led him into the arena when it was my turn, and took our little mounting block with me, but Max kept spinning in circles and wouldn't stand still. In the end a woman very kindly offered to hold him for me, and I mounted from the ground.
The canter test was first. I wanted to warm him up and establish canter before going down the track, but I was told not to go near any of the other obstacles, so I just about managed to get him going in a tiny space, and he set off quite well, but in the far corner were some strange bins like enormous dustbins, so he spooked at those and went back to trot, before we'd reached the end of the timed section. Mr O was told he could use all of the space in the arena, and didn't have to start until he felt he'd established a canter he was happy with!
Then we got to the first obstacle, which was a bridge. I was fully expecting to hop off and lead him across it, when the judge said, "No, you have to ride him across it." Grrr. Max was having none of it and kept backing off. I asked the judge if she could move out of the way, in case Max swung round and bumped into her, which he is very likely to do, but she just stood there. I was so put off by this I didn't want to risk it and had to go onto the next obstacle. It was two poles on the floor, a horse's width apart. I had to walk in, halt and rein back. Last time I did this Max was immaculate. This time he kicked a pole.
We had a test where we had to get off, leave the horse to stand within a circle painted on the ground for 10 seconds. Max decided that was his cue to head for the door.
After that was a little corridor on the floor, and I had to lead Max along it, with me in front of him, which we did successfully.
Then we had to walk into a square painted on the floor, where there was a mounting block and get on the horse within 15 seconds. I'm not sure if I did it actually, they never said.
The weaving poles were next, which were perfect, BUT we only walked and found out afterwards that you got more points if you trotted and even more points if you cantered, but nobody told us at the beginning, which I think is a bit of a cheek.
Then we had the low branches test. As I walked up to it, on foot, I touched one of the poles with my hat. There is no way on this earth Max would have gone under that. If I'd pulled him, he would probably have had a fit and smashed the thing to pieces, killing innocent (and ignorant) bystanders, so I lost all my points on that, too.
After that I ran out of time to complete the obstacles, and had to finish with my walk test. Max walked really well, but remember, you are not allowed to change your pace. A few yards from the end Max stood stock still and decided to have a poo, so I lost all my marks again. I bet that's never happened in the history of TREC.
The last time I did a TREC competition, I had such fun, laughed my head off and really enjoyed it, but this was all so strict and serious, it was like doing the manouvres in your drivng test and I didn't enjoy it at all. I think the organisers could have relaxed a bit, as if that was your first experience of TREC, you wouldn't go again. I was so cross with Max's attitude, too, he was totally bonkers. Barnaby did everything and was in 3rd place by the time we left, but I don't know what the end result is. I think Max saw the indoor arena and thought he was going to show jump, so psyched himself up for jumping, then when he got into the arena and it wasn't jumping at all, just a bunch of scary objects, it totally blew his mind.
So folks, I am back to selling Max. I am so fed up with dithering that I have phoned Lorna and asked her to put feelers out. I am also fed up with people saying, "Oh you can't sell Max, he's lovely!' because the fact is, he isn't lovely. I know he's cute to look at, but he isn't a dog, he's meant to be ridden, and some days he's an absolute nightmare.
What are the two things you never want from a horse? Rearing and bolting. Max does at least one of those, with style.
Mr O and I have realised that the crux of the matter is this: Riding is supposed to be a pleasure, right? When I ride Max, I hack out, and I am always relieved to be home. Even in the summer, when he is calmer. When I ride Barnaby, I get to the turning for home, and I think, 'Just five more minutes' and add another leg onto the journey because I'm enjoying it so much I don't want to come home. And you feel like you're Joan of Arc on a magnificent white charger at the same time. That's how it's supposed to be. Riding Crispin was like that.
So I am going to play with Max and enjoy him as best I can until he is sold. I really thought we were getting somewhere last year when he was hacking out quite calmly. At Lorna's I could hardly get him to go out on his own. He seemed to really understand, and be happy with, what I required, which was really very little, but now he seems to be back to square one and I have to start again.
I am going to put a couple of adverts up, in Thomas Irving and Stable Mates and see what happens. It's not fair on him either, I don't think, as the thing he does best is jumping, and I don't want to do it any more. He excels at it, especially cross country, and jumps like a stag. So that's that. My mind is finally and firmly made up.
We got up yesterday and went for a walk up the road to see if it was icy, before getting the lorry out. It just had a thick frost on it, so we decided we were going to the TREC competition.
I'd better quickly explain what TREC is:
It was set up in France as a way of examining candidates for taking out rides in trekking centres, but it developed into a competition, which is now quite big in England.
The competition has three phases. The first one is an orienteering section. Obviously if you were leading out a trek you wouldn't want to get lost, so this is the test for that. You go and copy the master map onto your map and set off along the route. Sometimes there may be obstacles to complete along the way, for which you get points. At level one you're looking at a distance of 5-7 miles, and you are timed.
The next section is called Control of Paces. This is to test that you have control of your horse at all times. A track is laid out. You have to do the fastest walk you can manage without changing pace (ie breaking into trot) and the slowest canter (again without going back to trot). This is also timed.
Then comes the obstacle phase. A variety of obstacles are laid out, in a field or maybe using a cross country course. There may be a gate that you have to open without dismounting or letting go of the rope, a bridge to lead your horse over, riding under low branches etc, all things to simulate natural obstacles that you might encounter on a hack.
Yesterday we didn't have the orienteering phase, fortunately, just the control of paces and the obstacle course.
All the horses were walking up and down calmly, waiting their turn to go in the arena. Mr O was on before me, so he was warming Barnaby up. Max was snorting and staring at everything. I got on him and he kept trying to drag me back to the lorry. It took all my strength to keep him where he was. I did the gate obstacle, which was outside the arena, while John was inside. Max actually did it quite well, without taking my leg off against the gate post, which is unusual!
I got off after that as Max was still straining to go back to the lorry. I don't know if he thought Barnaby was there, or what was going on in his head, really.
So I led him into the arena when it was my turn, and took our little mounting block with me, but Max kept spinning in circles and wouldn't stand still. In the end a woman very kindly offered to hold him for me, and I mounted from the ground.
The canter test was first. I wanted to warm him up and establish canter before going down the track, but I was told not to go near any of the other obstacles, so I just about managed to get him going in a tiny space, and he set off quite well, but in the far corner were some strange bins like enormous dustbins, so he spooked at those and went back to trot, before we'd reached the end of the timed section. Mr O was told he could use all of the space in the arena, and didn't have to start until he felt he'd established a canter he was happy with!
Then we got to the first obstacle, which was a bridge. I was fully expecting to hop off and lead him across it, when the judge said, "No, you have to ride him across it." Grrr. Max was having none of it and kept backing off. I asked the judge if she could move out of the way, in case Max swung round and bumped into her, which he is very likely to do, but she just stood there. I was so put off by this I didn't want to risk it and had to go onto the next obstacle. It was two poles on the floor, a horse's width apart. I had to walk in, halt and rein back. Last time I did this Max was immaculate. This time he kicked a pole.
We had a test where we had to get off, leave the horse to stand within a circle painted on the ground for 10 seconds. Max decided that was his cue to head for the door.
After that was a little corridor on the floor, and I had to lead Max along it, with me in front of him, which we did successfully.
Then we had to walk into a square painted on the floor, where there was a mounting block and get on the horse within 15 seconds. I'm not sure if I did it actually, they never said.
The weaving poles were next, which were perfect, BUT we only walked and found out afterwards that you got more points if you trotted and even more points if you cantered, but nobody told us at the beginning, which I think is a bit of a cheek.
Then we had the low branches test. As I walked up to it, on foot, I touched one of the poles with my hat. There is no way on this earth Max would have gone under that. If I'd pulled him, he would probably have had a fit and smashed the thing to pieces, killing innocent (and ignorant) bystanders, so I lost all my points on that, too.
After that I ran out of time to complete the obstacles, and had to finish with my walk test. Max walked really well, but remember, you are not allowed to change your pace. A few yards from the end Max stood stock still and decided to have a poo, so I lost all my marks again. I bet that's never happened in the history of TREC.
The last time I did a TREC competition, I had such fun, laughed my head off and really enjoyed it, but this was all so strict and serious, it was like doing the manouvres in your drivng test and I didn't enjoy it at all. I think the organisers could have relaxed a bit, as if that was your first experience of TREC, you wouldn't go again. I was so cross with Max's attitude, too, he was totally bonkers. Barnaby did everything and was in 3rd place by the time we left, but I don't know what the end result is. I think Max saw the indoor arena and thought he was going to show jump, so psyched himself up for jumping, then when he got into the arena and it wasn't jumping at all, just a bunch of scary objects, it totally blew his mind.
So folks, I am back to selling Max. I am so fed up with dithering that I have phoned Lorna and asked her to put feelers out. I am also fed up with people saying, "Oh you can't sell Max, he's lovely!' because the fact is, he isn't lovely. I know he's cute to look at, but he isn't a dog, he's meant to be ridden, and some days he's an absolute nightmare.
What are the two things you never want from a horse? Rearing and bolting. Max does at least one of those, with style.
Mr O and I have realised that the crux of the matter is this: Riding is supposed to be a pleasure, right? When I ride Max, I hack out, and I am always relieved to be home. Even in the summer, when he is calmer. When I ride Barnaby, I get to the turning for home, and I think, 'Just five more minutes' and add another leg onto the journey because I'm enjoying it so much I don't want to come home. And you feel like you're Joan of Arc on a magnificent white charger at the same time. That's how it's supposed to be. Riding Crispin was like that.
So I am going to play with Max and enjoy him as best I can until he is sold. I really thought we were getting somewhere last year when he was hacking out quite calmly. At Lorna's I could hardly get him to go out on his own. He seemed to really understand, and be happy with, what I required, which was really very little, but now he seems to be back to square one and I have to start again.
I am going to put a couple of adverts up, in Thomas Irving and Stable Mates and see what happens. It's not fair on him either, I don't think, as the thing he does best is jumping, and I don't want to do it any more. He excels at it, especially cross country, and jumps like a stag. So that's that. My mind is finally and firmly made up.
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