There's no doubt about it, it's a fine thing to have your horses at home, it really is. But, one also pays dearly for it in terms of the overwhelming amount of STUFF that there always is to be done. It's not so much the farm as work at the moment and I first realised on Thursday morning that stress is starting to worm its tenacious, sticky tendrils into my brain, which took me by surprise as it always does. I cope and cope and cope and then wallop. The first sign is invariably a sense of hysteria building up in response to things you'd normally deal with without batting an eyelid :sigh: Here isn't the place to go into too much detail but yesterday I found myself in the farm shop feeling like my world had caved in because we'd had no interest in the kittens yet; not that I want them to go but then I can't keep the house under control with that many cats for too much longer either. Arrgghhhh. Then I saw Pheel in the feed merchants and realised I was going to burst into tears if I did more than grunt at him, so I did the only thing I could, which was to stop off and take the pooch for a nice long walk and sit and blart quietly to myself under a tree for half an hour. Why? Fuctifino. I suppose it's just the relentlessness of it all and the fact that I spend the best part of four hours a day commuting. A bit more flexibility here and there wouldn't go amiss. Maybe I need a job closer to home. Or better still, win the lottery. It all feels ungrateful somehow especially at this time when the mares are coming over soon and the arena construction is under way, but it's really not. I guess my body is screaming "time out, people!". Just cling on for the hols Rachibum and try to keep your mind off the fact that you're clinging on by fingernails that have been bitten down to the quick and are consequently a bit ouchy.
The boys are a pair of wild men atm and needing lots of sweaty saddle pad sessions. I so happened to be working T when Pheel and his merry men arrived to drop off the much anticipated chain harrow and finish off the telepraph poles for the raised beds. I don't know why I didn't stop; possibly because I was feeling pretty ragged - so he waited for a bit and then went again. I rang him afterwards and had to explain it wasn't him, promptly burst into tears again (this is so not my preferred way of being) and ended up having a lovely chat with him about what happens when it all gets too much. He's a grand bloke, he really is. I felt a bit bad bending his ear because he has it a lot worse than I do - I really don't know how he does it.
Meanwhile the boys had the fence down AGAIN and I wanted to beat the pair of them to death, but luckily Sid stepped in and came to fix it. They're only doing what they need to do according to their natural imperatives, but that doesn't mean it isn't bloody irritating when it happens so often atm. So I put them out in the summer paddocks a bit earlier than usual and went indoors and bolted the door. This morning they've had the fence down once more; we'll, they've snapped off a number of insulators but the current is still going through ok. I think maybe a strengthening at the corners nearest the mares would be in order and I have some ideas about that.
Now that I've purged myself I can go and tackle the house, the garden and those wild stallions.
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