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Saturday 28 August 2010

Dressage camp day 1

7am: up and about, clean boots and tack. 1st lesson 9:55am.
9:55am: Jesus Christ. Q is a bag of beans, a complete fart. Ok so it's been a while since we were out, but is that any reason to make such a fuss. Indubitably, yes.
10:05 (or thereabouts): ride E43. Jesus Christ. Completely messed it up by dint of the fact that Dan's arena, parallel to ours, has A at the far end, whereas we have C. Net result? Both leg yields messed up, in amongst other areas. Me bad. Pretty pleased with (a) the fact that I enjoyed it regardless, (b) the change rein in canter and counter canter, (c) the medium trot and (d) the free walk on a long rein.
10:20 or so: Back to the ranch. Need to remonstrate quite strongly with Q who was appalling at the sight of other horses on the yard: yelling, weaving and worst of all scant regard for mother's personal space. Rectified, and turned out.
10:30 onwards: went back to check out a bit of the clinic but was weighed down by the large amounts of things to do at home, so beat a path back to the ranch.
11:00am onwards: much poo picking and weeding. 5 barrows of poo; at least an hour's weeding. There are big piles of weeds strewn about the paddocks, like small green hillocks of wrongness. Am obsessed.
15:15 track Q down and administer a tube of Carl Hester's finest calmer. He stands looking askance at me, clearly thinking "what was that all about, that random syringe?"
15:30 Prepare for second ride of the day, lesson with Dan. Q is serenity itself, on a magnesium high.
16:00 ish go next door for lesson. Q much calmer. Ride with ear piece for first time. Really, really good lesson. It has made me realise how much we bumble and faff deep within our agreed comfort zone when left to our own devices and how much I have missed having someone to really kick our butts. Predominantly the work was on activation of hindlegs, evenness of contact, straightness, energy. There are fundamental things we really need to get to grips with and I thoroughly enjoyed it even though I was a red-faced sweaty bastard by the end of it :)
17:00 ish: bring in T and work him in hand. He was awesome and I could swear he enjoyed his session as much as I did. Must get on with it and ride him tomorrow.
18:00 ish: evening doings, shopping and walk the pooch. Dash back with steaks and salad to cook. Sid is unwell and therefore indisposed to be of practical assistance.
19:30 ish: just finish up cooking steaks when SMS comes in from Dan to say they're just starting to watch the test videos. Arrgghhh. Wolf steak down at record speed and hotfoot it next door.Very interesting evening - it's never as forward as it feels, for one thing, meaning that although the canter and change rein to counter canter wasn't at all bad, the other bits I thought were good weere not nearly impulsive enough (!), especially the medium canter which felt really good, in fact was a working canter. Net result, 56%. On the plus side it will be easy to do better if I can just stick to the test and not go off piste, although in fairness I feel I should have got a couple of "creative" bonus points for the leg yield zig zag to correct the second error. Q retains his sexpot demeanour notwithstanding. Need to get rid of that beer belly though.

Tomorrow: group polework lesson and in the afternoon a lesson on test riding, both of which I am looking forward to very much. Neither Q nor I will know what has hit us.

Legs: Ow
Q: Jesus!
Me: Yay!

Friday 27 August 2010

Long weekend

 Marvellous, a long weekend stretching ahead in that stretchy way that we've discussed before. Already a day of it gone and what have I achieved? Shopping, weeding, cleaning, acquiring the details of the dressage test for tomorrow's clinic (E43), learning and riding said test, tracking down an errant meehoo, reprising the rug room, sweeping and preparing for the arrival of a number of horses tomorrow for the clinic, and finally sitting down. Ah yes, and discussion with two of Pheel's colleagues about the practicalities of erecting the arena mirror - rather a number of them as it turns out, meaning that it couldn't be done today after all.

At least on the work front the project is back under control now that we've got the authentication and GDB-related issues sorted out, which is jut as well because I was about to implode in a mammoth stress attack. However, luckily there are plenty of other things to be stressing about instead.

The forecast for the rest of the weekend is largely horsey.

Monday 23 August 2010

Breaking News

Xacra finally allowed me near her again tonight (after making sure there wasn't a farrier secreted nearby), then really let her guard down for the first time ever to enjoy some scritchies, first on one side of her neck then both sides simultaneously, with lip wobbling and everything! She either let me press my face against her neck to give her a kiss or was so wrapped up in her scritchies that she didn't notice :wub:

Not only that, she nickered at me a little later, but I think that's because she thought I had food.

Worked both boys tonight so their holiday is finally over. T came in to see what  was what when he saw me with the head collar, while Q galloped off, bucking. T has dropped a bit of weight and top line since the mares arrived so I'm going to up his feed, and Q looks like he's about to give birth, so the pitiful offering he gets with his supps will be halved and his workload upped. In spite of this, Q and Xacra keep looking at one another, and I imagine the conversation goes something like this.

X: "I like the look of you. Who might you be?"
Q: "I like the look of you too. Fancy a shag?"
Me: "Have a good look guys, you'll be shagging come spring".

Sunday 22 August 2010

Weekend in Guernsey

We flew out on Thursday lunch time to Guernsey in order to attend the wedding of our friends Jo and Rob. It's been quite a wrench leaving the homestead for the first time, but one of those occasions when the head might be flapping but the body knew it was all going to be ok. In spite of arriving some two hours early to get some shopping done, we still managed to end up hoofing it across the airport to the gate, to arrive in a sweating, unnecessary heap having spent too long in the duty free. Doesn't matter what we do, we always seem to end up doing that. It was a bit :O seeing the little plane with propellors and everything - the flight itself was a bit bumpy but otherwise ok. Could have been worse. At least it wasn't as bad as the famous Death Flight of 2006 or whenever it was when we actually thought we were going to die on the way back from Golega one year.It was only the fact that we found ourselves in the impromptu position of looking after a young boy called Jorge that we didn't give vent to our base urge to PANIC.

The weather was forecast to be really rather shitty over the weekend but in fact was really rather nice.We had a bit of time to ourselves before the evening doings, which was to say the expected hen and stag dos. Bit awkward for me as I didn't know anyone other than Jo but also at least there wasn't the usual tacky hen stuff based on (not so) comedy cocks and such. For my part I probably quaffed a glass of wine or two too many an ended up hugging the bog in the early hours, which is always nice.

There was some concern as to whether Sid could keep Rob  in a semi-reasonable state on the stag do but in fact he surprised everyone by doing exactly that; he's not ordinarily known for his restraint. They all got up early and went for a swim in the bay next morning, which was even more remarkable, while I had a wander about the town and hit the shops.

The wedding ceremony started at 3pm so plenty of time to arse around relaxing and getting ready - which for me involved among other things dancing around in agonies trying to pierce a new hole in my left ear. Owwwww. As in some many circumstances, persistence is the key.

I fully expected to start blarting as soon as I saw Jo in her dress, and I wasn't disappointed. I think I must have some sort of faulty valve or duct somewhere that causes me to mush uncontrollably at there slightest opportunity. Jo looked stunning and it was the fact that they were both obviously so ecstatic that did it for me.

There then followed what can only be described as a hike up hill and down dale and through a lovely walled garden to the reception, which is easier said than done while wearing what Sid so fondly refers to as "fuck me shoes". Lukily I had a pair of back up flip flops which came out very shortly after our arrival. It turns out that there's only so long you can wear a pair of fuck me shoes, especially when that time frame includes an unexpected hike of about 30 minutes' duration.

Poor Sid was bricking it about having to do his best man speech and it didn't matter how many times I told him it was brilliant, he was still bricking it. As it turned out, it really was brilliant! I was so, so proud of him as it's not easy standing up to (a) talk, (b) be funny and (c) strike the right balance of all things in front of 80 people but he bloody did it, bless him :)

It was a really good night, some highlights of which were the couple's first dance, which began is the usual cheesy smoochy number but turned into an excellent jive to Paulo Nutini, and a rather random, unexpectedly deep conversation with a Marine about religion towards the end of the night.

Next day there was a barbecue laid on in a meadow, ostensibly for a load of people who hadn't made it to the reception, so more grub and loitering with a large crowd of people whom we barely knew. I overheard a conversation which made me wonder if I'd fallen down a rabbit hole and found myself in Planet Daily Mail; one posh old bloke was talking about never having become accustomed, while living in Nigeria or Nairobi or somewhere else in Africa beginning with an N, to (and I quote) "having to queue up with the natives" in the bank and wondering why said bank couldn't have had a back door or something for the white people.

I expect it was a jest. It must have been, right?

Later Sid and I went out for what was expected to be a quiet meal a deux  but instead we ran into some people from the wedding, had a couple of beers with them and then went out for a meal, during which a number of surprising things happened. Sid, still high from his triumphant best man speech, managed to blag a table for 8 by insisting on speaking to the manager (also French) where prior attempts had failed, sent his steak back when it wasn't quite blue enough, and then returned his (uncooked) creme brulee, after a long history of rather English-ly never sending any thing back, not wanting to make a fuss. I think the worm has turned! Dog only knows what will happen next. The mind, quite frankly, refuses to boggle.

This morning we awoke to news that there were no flights off the island due to adverse weather (fog). Arses. It's one thing going away but quite another not being able to get back when planned. We got to the airport anyway and were really rather lucky, as literally within minutes the fog cleared and our flight was back on. Finally got home around 4.30 and immediately set about doing the rounds seeing the horses, letting out the pooch and the meehoos and generally starting the long process of catching up. In practical terms this equates to approximately five barrows of poo picked, four litter trays cleaned, the dog walked and supper made. The suitacases remain resolutely unopened on the patio.

Back to work tomorrow, hoping the sore throat and general fug isn't going to develop into anything further, while Sid has a full blown rancid snot thing.

Wednesday 18 August 2010

Howay the girls :)

So D-Day has arrived; dawn has broken and the farrier cometh. Last time he came the boys were :ahem: lively but all was calmness itself today and I got my first trimming lesson. Robin has very kindly left me a rasp and a hoof knife and next time he has a spare set of pincers he'll leave me those too. This is good because I had no idea just how expensive some of these things can be. No intention of doing much myself but if needed it's there.

On to the girls. I had no idea what to expect really other than it might only be introductions today, as they are very wary of men. But in fact, Robin got them both trimmed, all round! Amazing. They were nervous, yes, but Robin was fantastic, very quiet, talking to them all the time but obviously confident - indeed a lot more confident than I would have been - and they trusted to the situation enough to stand there and allow it to happen. I really didn't imagine Robin would be able to get to the hind feet today but in hindsight I hadn't reckoned to that fabulous, indomitable Luso temperament. Also, I had thought it was not going to be possible before I was reliably picking their feet up myself, but again with hindsight it made more sense for Robin to do this as he really knows what he's doing and has the confidence of longstanding experience that horses really respond to. He hasn't done a full trim amd tidy, just taken the excess off, which is enough for now.

So very proud of the girls, and what a relief to have all that extra foot off! :hail: Robin, and his excellent ways, without which none of it would have been possible.

Tuesday 17 August 2010

Equal parts arrggghhh and awww

Note to self: when (a) you know that there are numerous wasps in the feed room and (b) that little inner voice pipes up that it mightn't be the best idea to put your hand in a bag to pull out some dried carrots but you got ahead and do it anyway, it's best to LISTEN TO THAT VOICE. Othwerwise you might end up feeling a searing pain in your palm and open it to find that one of the little yellow brethren has deposited its sting deep within as payback for your foolishness. Ow.

I did what I did that time I got a hornet in my pants (well ok, jim jams) and what any reasonable person would do under the circumstances: I sat and waited for a bit to see if I would swell up with anaphylaxis and die; didn't, so carried on, albeit rather more gingerly than I ordinarily would.

I couldn't resist a bit of weeding in spite of the throbbing; it's really getting to me and I can't walk past them even when doing earlies without relieving a few of them of their livelihood. Q came to help and insisted on standing right next to me, inspecting each and every weed pulled and then delicately pulling at the shoots of grass freed from their midst - albeit momentarily - by my actions. He then stood over me and whiffled at my head until I got the message and gave him his scritchies, during which he reciprocated by whiffling at my feet. Such a sweet boy :)

The meehoos accompanied me around the yard tonight - the little girl tends not to be so adventurous as the others and stays closer to home, but Binky, Ted and little Jimbob (as we may end up calling him) all came running up the yard with me, along with Dora of course, sniffed around in the feed room while I sat and waited to see if I was going to swell up and die, then accompanied me whilst I poo picked the mares' field, leaping about in the long grass and play fighting. I love those Rach Dolittle moments; they are in fact one of my favourite things in the world, being pursued about the homestead by a plethora of furry bodies, all enjoying the companionship of the moment just as much as me. These are truly halcyon days for the cats; having been snipped, wormed and generally MoT'd, they are clearly feeling good and enjoying each others' company. Binky is looking completely lush; gone is the lankiness and the slightly greasy coat, to be replaced with shine and curves. Ted is also doing a good job of charming Sid with his magnanamous ways and sterling parental capabilities. Meanwhile Jimbob and little Rosie (I think that's what we'll end up calling her) are a riot of fun and youth and cuteness. All topped off Jimbob falling asleep on my lap tonight, with his raucous purr and his cute little rabbit feet. Love it.

Things are proceeding apace with the mares and soon enough we may have to have a conversation about personal space; tonight I have discovered that two mares, one smallish woman and a poo bucket all milling about in a 12 x 11' field shelter is just that bit too crowded and something has to give - it ain't gonna be me. In our walking/leading session tonight Xacra again made progress in discovering the art of lifting a foreleg when asked without then walking off, and very nearly completely dropped her guard with some poll scritchies, but just clawed herself back in time. Her demeanour changes a little every day and I'm pretty sure it's accelerating now. Both of them are much less anxious now that they are accustomed to daily contact bearing food and scritchies. It's no wonder they end up very reserved when living in a large band of 100+ mares because it would be very difficult to have any 1:1 time with any one individual under those circumstances, as they are invariably in Portugal. But it's good for us in that it's very rewarding to go through that familiarisation experience with them.

That's two, possibly three awwws, but the extent of the arrggghhh counterbalances them to the nearest micron, which should give a reasonable idea just how much the sodding hand is throbbing. I'm aware that I have the pain threshold of a flea, but Gordon bloody Bennett. The application of vinegar and an anti-histamine tablet has helped somewhat so I may make it through til morning.

Monday 16 August 2010

Hitch, weeding and smeg

I've just spent a pleasant half hour reading some of Christopher Hitchens' notes on Facebook. Man, the guy can WRITE. Planet-sized intellect notwithstanding, it's just such fabulously constructed stuff. Even if the content is not something I would ordinarily read, not being the most political of animals, his writing makes it all much more stimulating than it would ever be otherwise. Hitch, you rock.And that's before you get started on the pope, or Mel Gibson.

And now back to our normal programming: that is to say, some sort of hellish cross between Farmer's Weekly and How To Be an IT Manager in 10 Steps You Thought Were Easy But Turned Out To Be A Bit Tricksy.

This weekend it's all been about weeding. Lots and lots of weeding. It got to the stage where, when I closed my eyes, all I could see was a snapshot of the little tendrilly fuckers sprawling out across the pasture. No wonder the grass was struggling to break through with all that going on. I was at it for hours and managed to clear a quarter of the smallest (but most affected) paddock, a feat which translated to roughly four barrows full of weeds, a number of thistle-related minor injuries, a bite from something nasty and some moderately sore triceps. It's addictive though and I find myself eyeing up the remaining insurgents with something approaching desperation, in spite of the fact that my hands are bleeding and I can barely move a muscle. We've got a wedding to go to at the end of the week so I'm a little more conscious of the state of my hands than I otherwise would be, and slapping on a bit of hand cream at the end of the evening doesn't really cut it when said hands would give a badger's arse a run for its money in the roughness stakes and there are layers of good, honest dirt embedded at a cellular level in the knuckles of my left hand. I noticed that today while sat in a meeting next to the second most senior person in the institution, discussing what to do about teaching rooms.

It was an interesting dichotomy between him, the resplendent professional with his nice suit and his clean nails and general impeccable presentation, and my with my knuckles, my second hand Next suit off ebay and mare smeg under my nails. I have learned from Sid that there are certain types of people who pay attention to these things; professional types, mostly, so as a result I spent the rest of the meeting with my left hand either under the desk or curled into a fist to disguise the filth, while giving thanks to all that is holy that the right hand was pretty much ok and resolving to buy a nail brush at the earliest possible opportunity. It's not like I hadn't tried to get the smeg off, it's just that it was particularly resilient. French smeg, then, sitting there, arms folded, going "Non".

Meanwhile Xacra has enjoyed her first head rub and is learning that there might be a point to humans after all.
F-2 days. Not looking hopeful for the farrier, unless we throw her and truss her, but I'm pretty sure that wouldn't do the slow build up of trust any good.

Saturday 14 August 2010

A day of firsts and unusual doings

God it's nice to have a lie in on a Saturday after a busy week.

So a number of firsts today worthy of note.

We're going to a wedding next week and for the occasion I have purchased an LK Bennett dress. This is well outside my usual frame of reference and one I could become accustomed to but mustn't. The only ones who wear designer clobber in our house are the horses, as is the correct way of things. Said dress arrived this morning and is very nice indeed.

In order to get the removable partition in the field shelter that we wanted (ie one that is not solid all the way to the top) we ended up with a new design that only had kick boards on one side. Sid therefore spent much of the morning devising a way add chipboard to the other side of the partition, which involved taking the partition down and nailing it on in three bits before putting it back up again. For my part I de-weeded inside the shelters and otherwise prepped for the much anticipated straw bed installation before going off to de-smeg myself in preparation for the next unusual doing of the day - the hairdresser. Oh yes.

See, I hate going to he hairdresser, so I tend not to do it. And unlike the dentist, all this sort of avoidance tactic does in the way of consequencs is develop a tendency towards very long hair, and that's what scrunchies are for. It's all that pointless conversation about holidays (or mobile phones, as I noticed today, and the intricacies of setting the speed dial options) that does it. However, fortune was with me as I got a young girl (there exists the real possibility that I've reached the age where hairdressers and policemen all look young this should not be discounted) who really only wanted to get the job done and not talk pointless bollocks, so that suited me just fine.

Naturally enough I have the worst hair for what I most want, which is just a little bit of body. If I am to achieve this however I must go beyond my comfort zone in terms of length, and that is something I am just not ready for. I think Sid thought I was a wuss but was secretly pleased I didn't come home with a skinhead.

We put the beds down for the girls and took the pooch for a walk - blissful in the woods, all fresh after rainfall and with sun shining down through the trees creating a number of beautiful peaceful scenes - wish I'd taken the camera. A day off for the boys principally because the day was rammed and I ran out of time.

Binky caught a baby bunny and brought it back - alive :( - for the meehoos. Tis what mother cats do of course and the natural order of things, but tricky for a sap like me. Said bunny somehow escaped and took refuge **for most of the afternoon** under a pile of railway sleepers while Ted sat on the first watch. Next thing, Binky had it in the garden again and it looked uninjured but deep in shock, so I took it off her and put it in a cat basket and covered it to let the poor thing try to recover a bit if it could. But no, it died a short while later. Good on the one hand as natural bunny control and there really are plenty more where that one came from but sad for the individual. At least it died quietly in the box rather than being tossed about by a number of cats.My farming friends would think I was some sort of fuckwit, not least because the whole purpose of cats on farms as far as most people are concerned is one of pest control and people spend a lot of tme, effort and money keeping down bunny populations to stop them digging their warrens in paddock and risking horses' legs, among other things. A fool, but an honest fool I remain - a bit like Peregrin Took looking into the stone of Orthanc, only taller and with less furry feet.

Friday 13 August 2010

this and that

I should have known it was going to happen this morning even though I reminded myself not to forget last night; I forgot to poo pick the mares' field shelter when I went out to do what I fondly call "earlies" at 5:45am, and had to go back out there post-shower, dressed for the office on the top half and the farm on the lower half, resplendent in a nice little black blouse, jogging bottoms and wellies respectively. I quite enjoy the juxtaposition of being a complete scruffy article at home and having to make more of an effort at work - though even then in my case it's less the Nicola Farhi suit and more a second hand Next suit off Ebay.

I wouldn't ordinarily be poo picking their field shelter at that hour in the morning on a school day, but today I felt it was warranted on account of the fact that Chart Stables were coming to change the non-removable partition for a removable one, so that when the girls are ready to pop next spring, we will have a nice capacious area in which they can do so. This has now been done and I can't say enough about Chart - they've been excellent. Our next task - which I would have done tonight had I not been so bone numbingly weary - will be to weed the area where the shelter sits and put down a nice bed of straw. These are the sort of jobs that make having horses such an eminently rewarding thing: even the certain knowledge that their lovely new straw bed will be defiled within moments cannot take away the momentary yet all-encompassing sense of fulfilment at seeing them wandering in there and happily browsing over it for the very first time, then perhaps standing fetlock deep in it while enjoying a nice bit of hay. It's best not to spend too long considering how the next time you see it there'll be poo and hay all mixed in and how you're the poor sap that has to try and make it all nice again.

All of this is eminently more satisfying than wrestling with the implementation of a new IT system, as I am having to do at the moment. WHY everything has to be such a royal pain in the arse defeats me. So LDAP doesn't have all the info we need to pull into it (it's a new Helpdesk system) in terms of user location and such, so we must perforce use our general database and get the stuff in via ODBC. Only thing is it's a Firebird database and doesn't understand SQL so there's some fuckery needed to get that sorted, necessitating the reliance on others to get it working. The server needs to be on the domain (I'm not sure whether the fact that this is news to me is evidence of my technical inadequacies or whether it really should have been mentioned earlier; it could just as easily be either) and this too might be problematic due to server OS version and network infratructure "incompatibilities" which I had understood would only be likely to cause an issue were we to attempt to set up network shares, which we're not. So two days of training and brain overload finished today not with a nice little cherry on top of the cake but a steaming pile of particular effulgent effluent, a substance which has perhaps first passed through the digestive system of a polecat only to be expelled at speed all over the top of this hitherto relatively straightforward and pleasant albeit capacious project - a bit like having a nice bun only to discover that it's fully of candied peel, or sultanas. WHY. There are those people who enjoy these challeges but me, I'm not one of them. It was this aspect of myself that led me to conclude that I'm not and never will be a real techie, cos I just want stuff to work, and so I became a manager.


The whole thing was almost adequately offset by the fact that the trainer had a slightly hysterical giggle that was exactly reminiscent of Herbert Lom's excellent Inspector Dreyfuss in the Pink Panther films. I did wonder afterwards if he wondered why I was grinning at him so much and whether I ought to begin practising the phrase "'ave you got a rrrrheum" in a terrible faux French accent, or whether Kato was going to burst out of the stationary cupboard and karate chop me upside the head. 

Thursday 12 August 2010

Quick update

Well it's been a marvellous week for a number of reasons, but mainly because Sid has been out each evening on the yard pursuing our new mantra of movement being the key. This has resulted in an embarrassment of poo picking assistance, which is also good for a number of reasons including (a) non-demanding time with the girls, who are really Very Wary Indeed of blokes, and (b) less poo picking for me. It's so much nicer to be out there together doing the horses and keeping tabs on why it is we are doing this.

Since T's last wild man episode I have changed tactics a bit. I had noted that his response was escalating in line with movement (ie much more rancid face in canter even than in trot, and it was quite rancid enough for most purposes in trot) so I thought I know, I'll take movement out of the equation and see how we do with that. We did a nice stretchy warmup a couple of evenings ago at the other end of the arena while the girls of course were mooching close to the fence. Once he was relaxd and attentive to my satisfaction I walked him in hand gradually closer to them, assking only for him to keep his attention on me and not to do any unpleasantness of the face, and he managed that very well in much closer proximity , so well pleased with that.

Tonight Sid was working late and T came in with a gleam in his eye (more of a glitter) that I really didn't trust, so I went and put the girls in the shelter so we could have a trouble-free session as I wasn't really up for dealing with half a ton of very antsy stallion this evening. Back to his usual lovely self, very calm and attentive and a good session, finishing with some piaffe in hand.

Meanwhile the girls are doing well and we are making slow but steady progress. I've taken to leading Xacra around and doing feely leggy in the middle of the field, and she finds that better. Alfama is revealing herself to be one very sweet mare and once she gains confidence she's going to be awesome. God knows how long it will take to achieve our aim but we are moving in the right direction.

The meehoos have been going out in the evening for their constitutional while we can keep an eye on them, and it's the sweetest thing in the world seeing the family group (that's Binky, Ted and the meehoos) all out and playing together, whether it's racing around the garden or leaping around in the long grass playing lions. Ted has rediscovered his inner meehoo since he's had his nads off and is great with the little ones - who are growing like weeds. Got them trained now to come galloping in at night by the simple expedient of not feeding them before they go out. Genius eh?

Sunday 8 August 2010

Wallop

Today, I have:

* sorted and filed the paperwork of approximately four months
* cleaned the office, ready for computer equipment
* cooked a full English
* cleaned the bedroom
* cleaned the bathroom (after an unseemly gap from the last time)
* ridden Q
* worked T through a lot of unpleasant herding behaviour in the picadeiro while the girls came RIGHT TO THE FENCE and spent the whole time grazing apparently unconcernedly and IMO with great insouciance at the periphery
* did some shopping
* poo picked the mares' field
* walked the pooch
* cooked supper

Meanwhile Sid spent many hours cleaning and de-weeding the front drive and garden path, so that in the winter we may have a fighting chance of beating a path to the car without getting covered in mud, and trimming all the overgrown brambles and other miscellaneous vegetation to ensure that it doesn't short out the electric fence.

The girsl spent the entire afternoon loafing in their shelter so that when the time came for evening doings and goodies they couldn't give any less of a monkey's and stayed resolutely grazing on the other side of the field.

In view of all this and the session with Tessa yesterday, who explained to us the new research revealing that movement has a huge impact on the ongoing efficiency of the central nervous system, our new phrase is "movement is the key". If there's any justice I should have one of the best CNS's in the business.

Saturday 7 August 2010

Crunch

The boys and I had an appointment with our chiropractor this morning; first time in ages. Both boys in good shape: Q just had a minor tightness to the right just above the wither and T a little tightness around the right stifle - this is the one that gets a bit sticky so not a big surprise. Otherwise pronounced in good shape. Me on the other hand - Jesus. Let's just say there was a deal of crunching going on. I'm not sure why it is that this always makes me giggle like a loon, but there it is. Felt much better afterwards, with advice to take it easy. Of which, fat chance, really. We took the pooch for a walk, did some shopping and poo picked all the fields, so I hope I haven't undone all the good work by humping around half a hundredweight of poo. The boys have had a day off though in the name of me taking it easy.

Good progress with the girls today; Xacra is getting the idea of picking up her foot when asked, which is fab. Both girls are quite wary of men though so I'm not sure how far we'll get with the farrier, but we'll give it a go. They're looking really well though and taking much more interest in all our doings. Alfama is also doing well and is much more approachable having discovered the joy of succulents. She wanted to move around a bit so I spent some time using body language to underline that I was guiding her feet and then she stood really beautifully and allowed me to run my hand down to her fetlocks, so really pleased with them both.

Sunday 1 August 2010

Progress

So the mares have been with us for a few days now and are settling in well. It's going to be a challenge for me getting them ready for the farrier; I'm not sure it's doable in the time frame but will give it my best shot. These things can't be rushed. Today I was able to give them their first grooming session including a foreleg - one down,  7 to go :O They're enjoying a bit of hay so I can bring them in to the field shelter and do things with them in there. Really don't want to rush this, enjoying the small yet huge breakthroughs and the little signs that they are starting to relax a bit more around us.

Throughout the week I've been working the boys in the arena next to their field. Q has been his glorious self, nickering and interested but otherwise ready to concentrate on work as usual, so I rode him on Friday and again this morning - noting with interest that the presence of two mares in the corner is a really good aid for half pass across the full diagonal.

T has been a bit more interested and intent on doing that ears back snaky neck herding thing, while I have been equally intent on getting him to stop. We did two in hand sessions during the week with a reasonable level of understanding, so today we did a warm up session on the lunge and then I rode him. Of course, when I got on the mares were away down the field, yet almost the moment my butt hit the saddle they were mooching over to see what was going on, and ended up right in the corner as they invariably do :) The focus was on keeping T calm and rewarding that, edging closer (bend is your friend Rachibum) while retaining a nice long relaxed frame. Found the exact distance where he started the herding thing and worked through that, so very pleased that he kept good levels of focus and relaxation. Finished with a bit of work in hand right next to them without the behaviour so was very pleased with him.

Less good is the fact that the last pair of meehoos went today. It's not easy but I had no choice :(