Review of the Year - Part Two

Our church life here had strange beginnings. We used to attend The New Life Church in Retford, where the worship was beautiful, and the teaching immaculate.
We knew the Lord had led us to Derbyshire, so we expected to leave our prospective place of worship in His capable hands. Mr O passed a church one evening on the way home from work, and suggested we go there the following Sunday. This was in the run-up to Christmas. We went for a few weeks, and got a very warm welcome, but found ourselves nearly nodding off during the service. And then in one sermon the preacher described God talking to Moses, and said, "Of course, God isn't going to communicate with people like that today." Oh really? As someone who communicates with God frequently, and knows it is very much a two-way conversation, I knew I wasn't going to be able to cope with that.
The second church had truly amazing worship, and we went there for a few months. But the teaching was abysmal, and then became non-existant. Oh dear.
So we were praying. Was it our job to stay here, encourage them to preach and maybe do some ourselves? But they were too much into the 'slain in the spirit' scenario, whereas we are, 'been there, done that, and guys, it doesn't actually work!
Then I was looking on the 'net one day, at the AOG website, at 'churches in Derbyshire', and came across The Zion Church, Chesterfield. There was something about the website that really attracted me. We were due to go to Chatsworth Horse Trials, but when we got there, it was cancelled due to bad weather. I said, "That's okay, because I know where we're supposed to go," and directed Mr O to the church. We walked in, we sat down, we worshipped God, and it was... wonderful, like coming home. We've been going there ever since. I have no idea, to this day, why the Lord didn't show us this place straight away, but I knew, sitting in the other churches, that we were being given second best, and the Lord wants only the best for us. I am thrilled too, that no one at Zion judges us when we can't be there because we're doing things with the horses. Nobody thinks we love God less because of it, and that is a huge blessing in itself.
Just before this, I'd met a Christian girl who was helping out at a farm up the road. We became quite good friends, and she came to the house. She introduced me to something that has changed my life - Facebook! I had to work out a lot for myself, but she showed me the basics, and that it isn't something to be frightened of if you are sensible with it. It has in fact turned out to be an enormous blessing. I am able to keep in touch with the children and friends, which is wonderful. Through Farm Town, I've become very good friends with a lot of American Christians, and I love them all. They are so bold with their faith, so generous in their attitude, I don't know what it is really, it's difficult to put into words, but I have become very close to them all. Funny to think I'll meet them all in the next life, even if I never get to meet them in this one. It's going to be a busy time! It's been an honour and a privilege to find them, share in their lives, to pray for them and know that they are praying for me, too. I have learned so much about the American way of life, and one thing I think we are missing out on in England is Thanksgiving. It sounded like such a wonderful time, I wanted to join in!
Then I read 'Life in the North' by Judith O'Reilly and became curious about blogging. Thanks to my friend Cherie, here I am, having so much fun, finding out about other bloggers, and finding out about myself as I write. Again I have met many more Christian women, and some wonderful horse lovers, and horse lovers who love the Lord. Imagine that! People who are just like me, who like the things I like, who understand the things I understand. What a blessing. Here's to much more of that in 2010. I have met people stoically coping with cancer, people who've lost loved ones, people with family fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan, people who are waiting to adopt someone special into their families, those who write poetry, people who are amazingly creative with the needle, and so many who can express themselves with words and through a camera lense in ways I can only dream of. But blogging has taught me to be grateful for the things I am, and the things I have.
It's been thrilling to read people's kind comments, both on the blog and on other forums, from old friends, new friends and family members. Who knows where this will lead next year?
So I have begun to appreciate and enjoy the simple pleasures in life. I like to sit and watch the sun go down, on my favourite bench outside the stables, with a cat on my lap. I like to watch my grass grow and ripen, and be cut and baled, and know it's going to feed my beautiful animals in the winter. I am loving doing cross stitich and making cards, and baking my own bread, and soon I'll be making my own jam. I love having a clean house, and having time to do all the washing, and make lovely meals for when John comes home. I love to sit and listen to the silence, or at the most a curlew or a hawk or a magpie. I love the chickens, they have brought me such pleasure. I love to ride around the local farms and see that everything is in order, for a local farmer to wave at me as he goes past on his tractor. I love life, here, as God has given it to me, and I intend to make the most of it, for as long as He says yes.

Review of the Year - Part One

It's nearly the end of 2009, and what a year it's been. So much of our lives has changed over this past year. Nothing is the same.
Last Christmas Max arrived here from the Woodsetts field where he had been recovering from a bout of lameness. Barnaby was still recovering from his broken pedal bone, which took exactly a year to heal, and Zak was on box rest recovering from his tendon injury. We were getting used to living in a tiny cottage rather than a five bedroomed town house. I must just tell you that this house is totally open plan. We walk in the back door, cross the kitchen, go down four steps into the sitting room, walk across that to the flight of stairs up to the bedroom, and there's a shower room, and that's it! There is no more. Tessa took about twenty minutes to realise that if she laid in her bed and whimpered, we'd be able to hear her upstairs, so she lay in her bed on that first night and began to whimper with a vengeance. We stood it for about half an hour before giving in and calling her up to bed with us. Not long after that we bought a stairgate, so she remains in the kitchen, as the next discovery was that nobody, under any circumstances, was allowed to wear shoes in the sitting room on the beige carpet, and doggy paw prints are right out.
But outside the house, we've had to make mental and physical adjustments, too. I have gone from doing a very sedentary desk job to mucking out three, then four and now six horses, but I've gradually got used to it. I've written elsewhere about how I've recovered emotionally from the stresses and strains of work, to stretch out luxuriously into the person I was designed to be.
I am sure this job wouldn't be to everyone's taste, because I spend days and days on my own, but to me it is bliss. I get to read, cook, pray, ride and listen to music how, where and when I like, with no interruptions, no sarcastic comments, no suggestions, just my own company, and I love it.
I have made the slow transition from life on a livery yard, to being able to see my horse from my kitchen window. I can leave my stuff where I want without it being 'borrowed'. Nobody is bitching about me, my horse, my stuff, what I'm wearing, where I'm competing, how I got on, or anything. I do have to ride on my own, but even on a yard with fifty liveries, it wasn't always possible to ride out with someone else anyway.
As the year unfolded I realised how much pressure I'd been under to go to competitions, and more importantly to jump things and at a height I didn't want to do. After the teensy accident in January I am just thrilled to be riding at all.
When we first came Missis said she'd done eventing and did dressage to Advanced Medium level. I was encouraged by this. As time went by, it transpired that she did all of that when she was 17, and is 35 now. She freely admitted that she'd ridden more in the first three months we were here than she has in the last three years altogether. And you could tell because all of her information was out of date. 'So-and-so hires out their cross country course.' No they don't. 'The riding school hires out their arena.' No they don't. It was very frustrating.
Which is why I'd like to issue a huge thankyou to our farrier, who said one day, "You ought to join Amber Valley Riding Club. They do pleasure rides once a month round here - you'd really like it." He gave me their number, I rang them, and away we went. We've done an absolutely brilliant ride every month, each at least 10 miles long, with a minimum of roadwork, and thoroughly enjoyed them. It's really opened up Derbyshire to us as a county with possibilities, as before that I really wondered what we were going to do.
And all this is possible, because our vet declared Barnaby and Zak sound in May, and able to be gently ridden. We went indoors and hugged each other and cried. It was such a relief. We turned Zak out for the first time. He galloped round. So much for taking it steady. Max and Barnaby were so overjoyed they decided to jump the dry stone wall in unison, what a sight! They had rugs on, too, but cleared it by a mile.
The highlights of this year must be 1. The sponsored ride round Chatsworth. It was an amazing day, very warm, and miles of off-road riding. This place is used for a high level Horse Trials each May, which we normally go to watch, as all the top level riders go. Some of the cross country fences are a permanent fixture. When we got the paperwork through for the ride, it said, 'Strictly no jumping of the cross country fences.' Who did they think I was riding, Apache Sauce? And then, when we came to it, we got round to Queen Mary's Bower, where the main water jump is. Max suddenly lit up and went careering towards it! I was deeply tempted, it's only a drop in, a few strides and a jump out again, but I managed to steer him away at the last minute, but if nobody had been looking...
2. The next best thing has to be a TREC competition held locally. It was pairs only, so Missis and I signed up to do it. I have always slated TREC, said it's for wussy types, and I would do it when I was fifty and not fit enough to do anything else. It turned out to be, by far, the most fun I've ever had on a horse. We did the orienteering phase first and got completely lost. We only got home by teaming up with two other women who'd clearly done it before. I thought, "Missis has a Ph.d, she's bound to be able to read a map," but, no!
We could see some of the obstacles we'd be doing as soon as we got out of the lorry, and Max had been standing, snorting, round eyed, staring at them. I knew it didn't bode well. As it happened we fluffed most of the obstacles, but I had such fun trying them. Missis and her horse did very well, actually. We did the 'control of paces' section, which was also a lot harder than I'd expected. I was amazed at how nervous I was just doing a bit of walk and canter. BUT I haven't laughed so much since I did that very first hunter trials years ago at Laughterton. It's been wonderful to feel like that again, instead of nervous and stressed. If we want to do it with a chance of being placed, Missis ought to do it with Mr O next year, as Mr O's map reading is very good, and Polo was very brave at the obstacles, and Barnaby, as you know, is scared of nothing. Something to look forward to in 2010 I think.
We had problems with the taps and water here when we first moved in, so I decided not to bother doing any showing, as it takes me three hours to bath Max and get him ready. But in August I couldn't resist having a crack at The Ashover Show. I got up at 5am to get Max ready. Because we didn't know what to expect here, Mr O hadn't got the day off work, (it's always on a Wednesday) so I walked Max down, and Missis met me there. She groomed for me, extremely well, I can't express my gratitude enough. I had no stress as she was there for me the whole time. I didn't realise it was a County Level show (good job, as I wouldn't have had the nerve to enter!) and had entered Coloured Pony and Ridden Cob. I had to book in advance so all Max's details could go in the show catalogue. How exciting, my horse's name in print. It was a wonderful day, and we came fourth in the Coloured Pony class. We were only really beaten by the county champion. As I say, it's a good job I didn't know beforehand. Next year Mr O will make sure he gets the day off, so he can come, too.
So, on the horsey front, it's been a lot of fun, with no pressure, just like it used to be years ago. I haven't used a whip on Max once all year, shouted at him, or threatened to sell him! He's progressed a great deal, too. He used to be terrified of cows and sheep, but riding round Chatsworth, where the sheep scattered at his approach, cured him of that, and having cows in every field here has cured him of that fear. Now he helps the farmer down the road round his cows back up to the barn. He stands right next to the cows, so close I could touch them, and isn't the least bit bothered. This is a total transformation. Last time he saw cows at Osberton, he turned and fled!
I am so looking forward to doing more pleasure rides in 2010, more showing, and definitely doing the TREC again. I am so thrilled that the horses are well, and that I have bonded with Max this year like never before. I have loved the summer, when I have sat in the field with the horses, listening to the birds and watching my boys playing. I am blessed, and don't I know it.
We'd better have a bit more tomorrow, don't you think?

Ouch!

A busy day yesterday. We decided to ride, and took the horses up to the manege. The roads were clear, but there was ice all over Jolly Farmer's driveway, so I hopped off Max and lead him up. It's the first time Mr O has been there, although of course I've ridden Barnaby there quite often. There was still snow on the surface, so we did a lot of walking round, and did manage to have a trot, but the ice balled up in the horses' hooves again, so we ended up taking them out. Fortunately there was a girl on the yard who lent us a hoof pick, otherwise we would have had to lead the boys home. I said we wouldn't have a canter on the verge, then saw that it looked nice and changed my mind, so we set off, Max straight into flat-out gallop. I'm wondering if it might be worth not riding him at all while the weather is like this, and start again in the spring, rather than doing it in fits and starts like this.
We mucked out when we got back. Missis' horses were all in. Mr O stood there making up the night feeds. Our feed bins are right up against the outside of Fudge's stable, so he can reach over and touch you while you're doing it. He was watching what Mr O was doing, then he picked up his breakfast bowl in his teeth and swung it over the stable, where it landed in the Mollichop bin, as if to say, "While you're at it, put some in there please!" It was so clever, Mr O couldn't resist it and gave him some chop to eat. It's the cutest thing I've ever seen a pony do.
I have bought myself a new magazine called Cardmaking. It is absolutely brilliant, and comes with some free stamps, which are very sweet. I will have to practise with them. I am dying to go back to the craft shop to stock up on card and a couple of punches. It isn't going to take me long to finish my latest cross stitch either, as I am more methodical and therefore quicker, each time I start a new project. Time to try something a little more complicated I think.
Pongo and Missis had a games night last night. Loads of her family were there, plus our nearest neighbours, Housewife and Pilot, who we get on really well with. We played Pictionary, which John has never played, and I haven't played for years, but I have good memories of it being hysterically funny, which it was again. Missis' uncle started drawing. I'm shouting, "Slug? Snail?" Mr O piped up, "Chainsaw?" which it was. Silly me, how could I not have known?! I did guess Loch Ness Monster within seconds though, and Missis' mum guessed my drawing of 'washing line' after I'd drawn three lines. It's the one drawing activity I'm quite good at, as drawing is not my forte at all, but it's all about getting the message across as speedily as possible, and it doesn't matter if you draw stick men.
We also played a game called Pass The Bomb. It is a spelling game, where a few letters are printed on a card, and you roll a dice to see if you must use those letters at the beginning of a word, at the end, or anywhere, provided they are in the same order as on the card. When it's your turn, you are holding a ticking bomb, and have to think of the word and then pass the bomb on. If you are left holding the bomb when it goes off, you are out. It was extremely funny, and very hard, as someone can say the word you were thinking of, just before it's your turn, then you have to very quickly think of something else. Fortunately, words definitely are my thing, and when the letters on the card said, 'her' I said, "Hermenutics!" and passed it on. Everybody looked at me in total astonishment. I can't help what I know, can I? If it was maths I wouldn't have had a clue. Anyway, I didn't win in the end, Pongo did, but I really enjoyed it. I would definitely play it again. Considering it was 11 o'clock at night and I'd had a glass of wine, I was pleased my brain was functioning at all. There were about fifteen of us doing it, but I imagine my brain would fry if there were only about four of us in it. We'll have to have a go some time.
It was snowing again, quite heavily, when we came home, and collapsed into bed.
I actually had my first proper lay-in today (better late than never!) and went to turn Max out. It's been a horrible, miserable day, and it hasn't even been light really. Mr O had an energy burst and has cleared a load of muck and haylage out of the barn, which looks fantastic. He's put loads of wooden bars up so we can hang rugs up to dry, as there isn't room for them all in the stables.
Then, major classic, as I went to feed the cats, I slipped on the stone steps going down to the cat room, and landed on my right side, and banged my right arm on the corner of the stone. I just sat there gasping and pulling myself together, with the cats staring at me as if to say, "No time to dawdle, we're starving!" Isn't it typical that we've had over a week of snow and I haven't fallen over once, only to do this to myself anyway? I limped back into the house, where Mr O doctored me with pain killers and Voltarol. I couldn't type or hold a cup of tea, but it's not so bad now. At least it's not broken. It never is, is it? I am thankful for small mercies.

Bearing Gifts, We Traverse Afar

Finally, the day I have been waiting for, came yesterday, for two reasons:
1. We rode. At last. It has been killing me not to go out. We had to stick to the main roads, as a lot of the side roads are still snow covered or icy. We went up Birkin Lane, which confused the horses, as we've never done it before, but I knew there wouldn't be much traffic. It turned out to be a lot more hilly than I'd expected. I was planning to either turn round and come home, or see if we could get up the Manor bridleway, but there was a sheet of ice in the gateway, so we decided not to risk it. Max has a total panic if he slides on ice, and I didn't want to be on him if it happened. We decided to go on a bit further, then when we'd had enough, to turn and come back home. I was expecting Max to try a canter on the way home, as it would all be steeply uphill, but to my surprise he went straight into canter up the first hill, facing away from home, and was off. I shouted to Mr O to stop, which he did, in the nick of time, and Max managed to stop himself without crashing into Barnaby, but he was in a bolting mood. I shouldn't really be surprised, as they're on half-day turnout, plus an increase in feed since the weather became ridiculously cold. Plus we are riding them straight from the stable in the mornings, whereas at Lorna's we would have turned them out for an hour before riding them. I desperately need to take Max somewhere to let off some steam, even if it's in a large menage. I might book myself in at the riding school, just to let him have a blast round without getting out of hand.
2. We came back and mucked out and I blitzed the house, and before we knew it, it was time to set off for Abby's. It is strange to see that as soon as you come out of Derbyshire into Nottinghamshire, there is no snow at all. It's quite surreal. I had rung Abby to ask, "Did I say I would bring something?" and she said, "Yes mum, a pudding." Gasp. Fortunately her Tesco was open, so we performed an emergency manouvre and went in to buy a chocolate gateau, a lemon cheesecake and a trifle. Yummo. I still had that strange, "David isn't here," sensation, which I don't like at all. I miss him so much.
Then it was time to play Santa Claus with the grandchildren (and the children, for that matter). We got Ebony a Pepa Pig house, which she loved, and a cuddly Pepa Pig. We got Ben 10 things for Christian, cars for Jake and sleepsuits for Caelan, as he is too young to know what's going on really. He is a very contented, smiley baby. Oh, and guess who forgot to take the camera? Gutted.
Abby gave us a beautiful photo of Ebony. I will have to find a lovely frame to do it justice. Lisa got me a jewellery set, which was a total surprise. I realised I wasn't wearing any, so put it all on, there and then.
Christian sat on my lap nearly all afternoon, playing with his DS. It amazes me how capable such young children are on this little computer. Six is the same. I am so glad I knew what Christian was talking about, as he played Mario Kart, and I renewed my relationship with Mario and Luigi. Christian was his usual chatty self. I just find him totally adorable. He is so bright and funny.
Lisa got Ebony the Disney dressing up outfits, for Snow White, Belle from Beauty and the Beast, and Cinderella. She looked absolutely stunning in them, hence my misery at forgetting the camera. It was quite funny to see the stroppy side of her, as when we go, she is normally on her own, but she is two and Jake is three, and they don't always see eye to eye, and Ebony doesn't always get her own way. Her frowny face is very cute, she so reminds me of Catherine and Rachel when they were little.
Christian had sat with me the whole time, quite contentedly, then suddenly announced, "I don't love you, you know!" He likes to see what effect this will have. Unfortunately for him, I have had a hand in raising numerous children, and have been around the block a bit. I said, "That's okay, actually, because... I have enough love for both of us!" and started tickling him. He seemed more than satisfied with this as a response. Then he said, "I have another granny, you know." I said, "I know, but she's not as nice as me, is she?" He didn't know what to say. I said, "For a start, she's not as tall as me, is she?" He thought about this. Then I said, "Anyway, if she's any good, tell her to bring it on, I'll arm wrestle her any day." He looked highly amused at the prospect, then challenged me to an arm wrestle, not really knowing what it was. I laid down on the floor with him and showed him what to do, and beat him hollow. I may as well, while I can. Then before I could get up, Jake came and sat on me, saying, "You're my horsey!" I said, "Well if I'm a horsey, I'm going to buck you off!" and tipped him onto the floor, which he found hysterically funny, and got back on for another go.
By then, fortunately, it was time to eat, so we all went and helped ourselves to the lovely buffet Abby had prepared. I collapsed back onto the sofa. Sadly, soon it was time to go. Ebony never wants us to leave, and followed us out of the door. She is so sweet.
For some reason, I was absolutely exhausted by the time we got home. I can't think why. It's not like I'm sixty or seventy, is it? Well worth it, though, I love days like this.

Hark The Herald Angels Sing, Glory To The Newborn King!

I sneaked out to the barn on Christmas Eve and placed the horses' Christmas presents outside their stable doors. They were wondering what on earth I was doing with a rattly bag. I said, "Shhh, you can't look. I'm supposed to be Santa Claus." I got to Fudge and said, "Apparently you're on the naughty list." He looked back at me with his most innocent face. I relented, put his present in place, switched off the lights and tiptoed back indoors.
But, to my absolute annoyance and disbelief, Mr O got up in the morning and put the horses out! I couldn't believe it. The whole point was to go down in the morning and open Max's present with him. I was gutted!

But there was still loads of snow on the ground. I think it must be the first ever White Christmas in my lifetime. It set the scene really.
Then Mr O started mucking out. I refused to join in and said we were going to open presents, so we came in and did the deed. This is Tessa with her present. She walked round with it in her mouth all day. She didn't want the treats that it contained, she just wanted to dismantle the actual boot, and spent the day painstakingly taking the thread out and eating it.

Mr O got me a black jacket to ride in, and two pairs of jods, and I got him more or less the same, as well as The Terminator films on DVD. He got me Public Enemies (Johnny Depp) which I am dying to watch as I never went to the cinema to see it. He also got me a beautiful book of poetry, hymns and readings, which I saw in Past Times and really wanted. I will thoroughly enjoy dipping into it.
We went next door to take Six and Nine their presents. Nine said, "I don't normally cuddle women, but I'm going to cuddle you as you are the best babysitter ever." and gave me a big hug. I was speechless.
Missis liked the photograph we got them, which is of her and Pongo on the pleasure ride at Shipley Country Park. The fact that they are both on horseback is a very rare event, so I'm glad I got it. They got us an alarm clock each. Mr O's plays a horse neighing to wake you up, but has a picture of a horse that looks exactly like Barnaby on the front of it, and mine is a cock crowing. I will use it, but will probably end up throwing it at the wall in the mornings! They're very loud.
Then we zipped off to church. It was a wonderful service, just an hour long. All the children went up on the stage to show what they'd got. It was very funny and sweet. But what thrilled me was that at the end two older ladies got up and showed their presents. One woman had a cake that her 84 year old brother baked. She said Christmas is special, no matter how old you are. I must say, there has been great emphasis on 'buying for the children' this year, but adults celebrate Christmas too, don't they? What if you don't have children? What if you've got children who are away, or in the armed forces? Are you not to celebrate, then? When you get to our age, unless you're with your own children or grandchildren, it's a very odd feeling, which I will take some time to adjust to. Mr O was adamant that he wanted it to be just the two of us on Christmas day, and right up until that moment it seemed just like any other day, but when that woman spoke, it finally burst on me what Christmas really is about, the birth of my wonderful Saviour. It's not about gifts, or snow, or food, or television at all. But I definitely think there should be more provision for older people on Christmas day.
We came home and mucked out, and got the horses in. I opened Max's present for him, which is a pack of treats called Stud Muffins. They look like truffles, and smell absolutely gorgous, and slightly alcoholic. He scoffed the one I gave him. I put the rest away.
By then it was time to cook the Christmas dinner. The table looked lovely. We had a bottle of chardonnay. As usual, my favourite bit was the pudding, I don't know why. It always has been, ever since I was a child. I got a 'Finest' one from Tesco, and it was gorgous. I have to have lots of cream on it, too.
After that we slumped in front of the television. I even missed the Queen's speech, what happened there? It was a lovely day actually, but I wish we could have ridden.

And now it's Boxing Day. We were woken by Mr O's new alarm clock going off at about 7am. The sound of a neighing horse filled the room. I woke up with a start and thought we must be very late and Barnaby had come in to get us! We went down and turned the horses out.
Then we drove into Matlock with Pongo, Missis and the boys. There is still lots of snow. It looked at least like Aviemore, if not quite Val D'Isere. We parked the car and joined the crowds walking down to the river that flows through the centre of the town.
Every year a raft race takes place down the river Derwent, from Matlock to Cromford Meadow, and all the competitors are in fancy dress, and it was quite a sight.

I was amazed to see how high up we were, and there is no barrier to stop you sliding over the edge of the bank, into the water, especially as it was still icy up there.



The photos speak for themselves I think.


You'd have to be mad to do it. The snow is only just melting today, and it was what my mother would call 'perishing cold'. We were watching them come under the bridge where there are loads of rocks, and nearly every raft got stuck.




People stand on the bridge and pelt them with eggs, flour and water balloons, as they come underneath, but this year some of the boats had water cannons and were squirting water up onto the bank. It was brilliant.

We came back and decided to have a late breakfast. Mr O went down to the sitting room, and there was a robin sitting on the windowsill (indoors!). How on earth had it got there? We didn't notice it fly in. Had it been there all the while we'd been out? I opened the back door, but it wouldn't fly up to the kitchen. In the end Mr O opened the sitting room window, and the robin flew out that way, thank goodness. It didn't seem distressed, fortunately.

We had a big brunch with eggs, bacon, sausages and huge slices of black pudding from the farm shop, that was gorgous.
I needed the sustenance to help me muck out afterwards. The water had switched off again, but Mr O drove down to the pump and switched it back on, otherwise the horses wouldn't have had any water.
Max came trotting across the field at tea time, determined to get in before Barnaby. He needs to be ridden, and the snow is definitely melting, so my hopes are up for tomorrow. Never has one person been so glad to see snow disappearing, and been so desperate to get on a horse.
Talking of which, Kauto Star has won the King George VI cup for the fourth consecutive year, beating my darling Desert Orchid, who won it three times. What a horse.

Silent Night, Holy Night

Mr O has finished work, so now the holidays can begin. And they began with... more snow! The horses are bored with it now, and have got into the routine of only going out in the mornings while we muck out. It was white with fog again today. The horses retreat to the very back of the field by 11am and refuse to come down when we call them, so we have to walk all the way up there through the snow, and drag them down. But they don't eat or drink up there, so I have laid the law down with Barnaby and explained that he and his men would be coming in, so I can be a good provider to them.
After the 'warming Max's rug' scenario the other night, I have increased the horses' feed since the snow started. I want to know they are going out and going to bed with something filling in their tummies. Honestly, it's worse than having kids. But I have noticed here, more than at Lorna's, that the horses expect Barnaby to provide for them, and he in turn, expects me to provide for him, and I intend to live up to his expectations and be a good leader. I have noticed him looking at me affectionately this last few days, so maybe it's working. I rugged him up last night and he looked back at himself as if to say, 'Oh, is that what I'm wearing?' and seemed quite pleased.
They have been coming in with ice tightly compacted into their hooves, and I have had to wrench it out with a hoofpick every day, otherwise they are sliding on the floor, and it can't be very comfortable for them, can it? Yesterday I picked up Zak's off-fore and noticed a deep cut in his hoof. I've realised it's a bad overreach. I bandaged it up yesterday, having put wound powder on it, so we'll have to keep an eye on it, as it's quite deep. I don't want it to get infected.
I have emptied Zak's uneaten feed onto the lid of the dustbin, which makes a very good bird table. There is something about his feed (it's for weight gain) that must be very appetizing, as Tessa will tip his bucket over and eat what's left in it, and I tip it on the ground for the chickens to finish up, so I thought I'd make use of it and give it to the robins. I was filling the water buckets from my kitchen window and opened the curtains while I stood there, to reveal Tigger on the dustbin, chewing thoroughly on the bird food. I love my cats, but I want these birds to stand a chance, so I shoo'ed him away.
Not long afterwards, the first robin appeared, then the second, then the third! What is going on? And then, to my surprise, a big, fat mamma blackbird appeared and scattered them. She looks 'heavy with child' to me, and is clearly eating for three. You don't mess with her. The poor robins don't get a look-in. So today I have scraped the snow off the garden table and put extra feed on there, as the blackbird can't guard both places at the same time, so the robins will still get something to eat. Today Mr O realised what I was up to, but it was too late. He'd commented on how fat the robins looked, and said he wasn't surprised if they were scoffing Allen and Page Weight Gain. It's a wonder they can take off, they're so podgy.
After we'd got the horses back in, we ventured out in the snow, across the first field to the dry stone wall, where I made Mr O climb over the electric fence and cut me down some holly. We got enough for us and for Missis. We waded back, having risked life and limb, and I arranged the holly in my galvanised bucket, which is now in the sitting room, looking exactly like a Christmas tree. I might jazz it up a bit if I get time, but it looks very good. Missis managed to get me some mistletoe, which is hanging in the sitting room window, so everything is exactly how I wanted it now.
We went out for some last minute food shopping at the supermarket, and then went up to Highfields Farm Shop. I love it in there. They sell venison and wild boar sausages and haggis. We bought a huge pork pie, and some sausages and bacon, so we can have a big breakfast after we've mucked out tomorrow. The snow on the way back was horrendous. The fog was getting worse, and had come down to meet the snow, so it was just a wall of white everywhere. I'm glad we stuck to the main roads. We won't be riding tomorrow, that's for sure.
I have a feeling I have enjoyed the preparations for Christmas this year more than I am going to enjoy the day itself, as we won't be seeing the grandchildren until Sunday. Mr O rang Abby and Ebony answered the phone. Ebony asked, "Is that Father Christmas?" Mr O said, "No, it's Grandad." Ebony said, "Oh, what do you want then?"

Don't Eat The Yellow Snow!

A busy day yesterday. Lindy is lame, so Missis is keeping him in. I am putting my horses out in the morning and bringing them in at lunch time, and Missis is putting Polo and Fudge out for a couple of hours in the afternoon, although it has to be said, mine didn't want to come in and hers didn't want to go out, but it means Lindy has company all day.

I couldn't resist taking some photos, as it was absolutely beautiful outside. The sun was really strong, and the white was stunning. I was 'Jane Orson, arctic explorer.' Because everything is very stark, the birds have become clearly visible. I have two robins in my garden, which is interesting as I thought they were terretorial. Maybe one will have to give in and leave. I really want to feed them, but the cats are so crafty, and I can't police the garden constantly. I'll have to see what I can do.

I spent the afternoon finishing off the traditional trifle I'd started the night before, and making the Black Forest trifle. I decided to make a mini one next to it, so that I could taste it and only inflict it on an unsuspecting public if it was good enough. It did occur to me that if the situation got desperate, I could go outside, scoop up a bowl of snow, sprinkle on some lemon juice and say, "Look, I've brought a sorbet!" That would wipe the smile off thier faces.

So I put the chocolate swiss roll in the bottom of my big dish, then sloshed some port in as we don't have any sherry. Then I spooned in the black cherry pie filling, which is one of my favourite things, and the whole reason pancakes were invented. On top of this goes the chocolate custard. I don't know what I was expecting, but it was like a runny chocolate mousse. I whipped up the cream and spread it on top, then grated a flake and sprinkled that on to finish. I got a spoon and tasted my miniature version, and it was absolutely gorgous. All the flavours work wonderfully well together, and the dash of port just gives it an edge. Lovely. Thanks Raine, for the brilliant idea, and so easy to make.

I also wrapped Mr O's presents, and Tessa's. I think Mr O was under the impression I was going to wrap his presents under his nose at the weekend. Silly. When I've finished this I'm going to go and make some nice gift tags to put on them, as I've found a website with some brilliant ideas.

Then I hopped in the shower and had an opportunity to use my favourite shower things. It's a fragrance called Summer Hill by Crabtree and Evelyn, which I absolutely adore. What joy to go out for the evening smelling of summer flowers rather than eau de silage for a change.

Then we had the tricky task of carrying two dishes of trifle through the snow to the car without sliding and dropping them. I wasn't worried about one of the dishes, but the other is from my china set and I would have been heartbroken if I'd dropped it. Have you ever tried transporting two trifles by car in the snow? It was a military operation, I can tell you. I had to get in, fasten my seatbelt and get Mr O to pass them to me so I could have one on my lap and one at my feet, so I could keep it motionless, and I begged Mr O to drive very , very slowly. Fortunately we didn't have too far to go.

The party was a great success. We had all different curries which were delicious, and all the wonderful puddings. There were 12 of us from the Bible Study. It was a good opportunity to chat and get to know people a bit more. We took Communion together at the end and had an opportunity to give thanks to the Lord. It was lovely. Who knows how much longer we will be able to do that? A teacher has got the sack this week for offering to pray for a pupil who was ill. Christians should be used to persecution, it's not a new thing, but it is new to us in the west, and I wonder how bad it will get before we start having to meet in secret like they do in Muslim countries. A sign of the times, I think.