The last few days have been pretty tough for me, feeling as though I had finally hit that brick wall of supreme knackeredness and not quite knowing what to do with myself as a result. With Knickers away for a whole two weeks and Sid needing to catch up on some rest after pulling many 16 hour days for a project, I was pretty much left to my own devices caring for everyone and was really starting to feel it, with the added piquancy of ice and frozen taps as the cherry on the top of the muck heap. I knew something had to give when I found myself sitting on the yard blubbing with fatigue and not knowing where I was going to find the energy to get up again, yet knowing I had to or risk a very serious case of piles, apart from anything else.
Sid bless him has been a godsend the last couple of days and helped me do the yard. The timing was particularly apt as we had to close the boys in overnight due to ice-related treachery in the fields and my god can they shit for England! T will make one large stallion pile which is easy to deal with, but Q seems intent on crapping everywhere and it takes an age to muck out. So the help has been awesome and we've been getting everything done in record time, which has been splendid. It also coincided with sufficient thawing to allow me to get the boys out through the yard this morning to give them a workout.
Q first, and as always he was a complete gas. He's SUCH a bloke. After such a lengthy period doing nothing but hunching over a pile of hay in the field or stable, of course even a pipe and slippers man like him felt the pressing need for movement, and immediately set out in a nice forward ground-covering trot. Had there been a sound track, it would have James Brown, "I Feel Good". It's difficult to convey the glory I feel in sharing that joie de vivre as he ramps it up albeit in remarkably controlled fashion for one who has not had a good surface to play on for some two week. The girls were out in the picadeiro as their field was largely still an ice rink, so naturally he had to keep checking them out to see if they were watching. If it was a book title, it would have been The Joy of Movement.
T next, and the goats dutifully scattered as we came in, even Angie who was fastened to his haynet with the determination only a hungry goat can have. Same thing with him, real pleasure to be moving again and straight out into a nice big trot. Q did what he always does in such a situation, which is to say running up to the fence trying to incite violence while T puts on the most glorious floaty trot EVER. This incites Q still further, who charges up and down not knowing quite what to do with himself, while T floats along on a cushion of air, all hair and legs and drop dead Luso loveliness. Q stands for a moment or two before taking to his heels and galloping off down the field with his tail in the air, only to reappear a few moments later to have another pop. I love this, the posturing and displaying and the fact that they both really do seem to enjoy it. It's such a privilege to watch it. Minutes later, Dora appeared around the corner, an act which T wouldn't normally turn a hair at but on this occasion used to launch himself into a feel-good spooking and bucking frenzy that was awesome to watch. He was quite pumped up on the way back in, snorting and prancing, but settling at a quiet word. How I love these awesome boys. Someone once said that stallions wear their hearts on their sleeves (it may have been Lucy Rees), and they really do. They are so vibrant and alive, it is truly awesome.
We've been trying to work up the enthusiasm to go to Bluewater for the past couple of days. Maybe tomorrow will be the day. Luckily tiredness and general ennui in that regard have shielded us from newsworthy record crowds, which was nice. Record crowds are not somewhere I really want to be.
Tuesday 28 December 2010
Sunday 26 December 2010
Nip Nips and beyond
For the first time since I can remember it's been just me and Sid for Christmas. Or more correctly, Sid and I. Absolute bliss. No in laws to entertain, nobody else's agenda to pursue but our own, nobody's whims to accommodate but those of myself, one French person (much easier to deal with in the singular than in packs) and those of the 5000 creatures we share our lives with. The fact that I am attending to 4 horses, 3 goats, 6 chickens, a dog and 5 cats on my jack has meant that there's been ample opportunity to streamline the daily doings, all in pursuit of the pressing requirement to sit on my arse. Speaking of arses, it also means that I can now reliably discuss what it feels like to have a chicken peck you on the arse while you're skipping out a stable. The answer, lest anyone be concerned for the wellbeing of said arse, is that it's not as painful as one might anticipate, although the coldness of the weather and resulting gluteal numbness should be taken into account. Were one to submit this to the rigours of a mathematical formula to determine the exact pain level, there would be a definite requirement to include a numbness quotient based on ambient external temperature, gluteal surface area and layers and thickness of clothing. For the sake of accuracy one might also need to consider the type of peck involved. An investigative peck for example brings to bear rather less force (where F=MA) than would a determined peck of the sort that would occur were one for some reason to find oneself wearing pants made of the finest corn, although I'm not convinced that we need to concern ourselves at this stage with these rather less likely events and would do better to concentrate on more regular clothing such as breeches or jeans.
In the French tradition we had our main meal on Christmas Eve, and it was probably the best meal I've ever eaten. It was also a complete treat not to have to lift a finger and be served with a startling array of gorgeous grub. I can see that there's going to be a lot more home made pasta in our immediate future! Clearly it was a Good Day for cooking and Sid bless him cooked out of his skin to produce such a glory of fine food. We don't really do presents any more but concentrate instead on enjoying good food and being here at the farm, which is essentially a lifetime's worth of Christmases and birthdays all rolled into one.
We had friends round on Christmas night which made for another epic and a 2:30am close. Blast my eyes, all I can think about is having to get up early to do breakfasts when I get past a certain point. Notwithstanding that it was a really good night and has given me some food for thought about some changes that I need to make for the next stage in my life.
Because the fields are frozen solid and icy in places we kept the boys in last night, and this morning my plan was to place a line of electric rope across just outside the stable to give them access to outside but not the whole field. So I dutifully got out the fencing kit and fiddled around putting the line across Q's fence, and tied plastic bags on it to make more of a visible barrier. Ha! Let Q out and he went charging out at full pelt, striaght through the fence as though it wasn't there. Arses. Luckily he didn't do himself a mischief and it kind of reaffirmed my thoughts that it's probably safer to leave them free access so they come and go calmly, than keeping them in. Can't wait for the thaw though and I've put down some old hay and poo on his regular path to give a bit more traction.
In spite of this I felt it was worth trying with T, so off I went with the fencing kit and fiddled around putting the line across T's fence, and tied plastic bags on it to make more of a visible barrier. This time I led T out and let him have a sniff before taking off his headcollar, at which he ducked his head and walked straight under the line as though it wasn't there. *sigh*
So they're out with a big pile of haylage, and the girls are in the picadeiro, where Q can keep an eye on them.
Meanwhile my plans to get up to see my folks have fallen by the wayside because the ovlov's head gasket hasn't been fixed and it is locked in the garage for the duration. Sid is thrilled because it doesn't mean he has to stay home and minister to 4 horses, 3 goats, 6 chickens, a dog and 5 cats all by himself.
Still no riding. The yard is an ice rink, but I'm hopeful for Tuesday when we are expecting temperatures of around 10 degrees - a veritable heatwave!
In the French tradition we had our main meal on Christmas Eve, and it was probably the best meal I've ever eaten. It was also a complete treat not to have to lift a finger and be served with a startling array of gorgeous grub. I can see that there's going to be a lot more home made pasta in our immediate future! Clearly it was a Good Day for cooking and Sid bless him cooked out of his skin to produce such a glory of fine food. We don't really do presents any more but concentrate instead on enjoying good food and being here at the farm, which is essentially a lifetime's worth of Christmases and birthdays all rolled into one.
We had friends round on Christmas night which made for another epic and a 2:30am close. Blast my eyes, all I can think about is having to get up early to do breakfasts when I get past a certain point. Notwithstanding that it was a really good night and has given me some food for thought about some changes that I need to make for the next stage in my life.
Because the fields are frozen solid and icy in places we kept the boys in last night, and this morning my plan was to place a line of electric rope across just outside the stable to give them access to outside but not the whole field. So I dutifully got out the fencing kit and fiddled around putting the line across Q's fence, and tied plastic bags on it to make more of a visible barrier. Ha! Let Q out and he went charging out at full pelt, striaght through the fence as though it wasn't there. Arses. Luckily he didn't do himself a mischief and it kind of reaffirmed my thoughts that it's probably safer to leave them free access so they come and go calmly, than keeping them in. Can't wait for the thaw though and I've put down some old hay and poo on his regular path to give a bit more traction.
In spite of this I felt it was worth trying with T, so off I went with the fencing kit and fiddled around putting the line across T's fence, and tied plastic bags on it to make more of a visible barrier. This time I led T out and let him have a sniff before taking off his headcollar, at which he ducked his head and walked straight under the line as though it wasn't there. *sigh*
So they're out with a big pile of haylage, and the girls are in the picadeiro, where Q can keep an eye on them.
Meanwhile my plans to get up to see my folks have fallen by the wayside because the ovlov's head gasket hasn't been fixed and it is locked in the garage for the duration. Sid is thrilled because it doesn't mean he has to stay home and minister to 4 horses, 3 goats, 6 chickens, a dog and 5 cats all by himself.
Still no riding. The yard is an ice rink, but I'm hopeful for Tuesday when we are expecting temperatures of around 10 degrees - a veritable heatwave!
Tuesday 21 December 2010
Taking it easy
Well after a fashion, with snow on the ground for the nth day running, Knickers away and many creatures to tend to. I'm re-schooling them all to accept a later than usual breakfast time by getting up 15 mins later every day. Am now on 6:10am from 5:20, aiming for the environs of 7am. Today is technically Day 5 of my hols but only now am I starting to slow down a bit.
Yesterday I seemed to be at it ALL DAY. Why does that happen I wonder. Took ages to get both cars started in order to get the ovlov to the garage. Sid had to go in to work to collect his laptop, so once I got back from dropping him off I set about yard duties. OK so having everyone out in snowy fields with frozen troughs there is the ongoing requirement to minister to their needs for water and forage, which takes some time. The boys come and go as they please, and continue to do so now that we've flattened the bad bits outside the back of their stables (in a blizzard), but the girls need to be taken out and so do the goats. And it's not really necessary to put the beds up every day either. Technically I suppose it's not essential to take the boys' rugs off for a bit so they can roll and prance in the snow either. But this doesn't really explain how I can spend the best part of the day arsing around out there.
Dan next door had a mains water leak which necessitated turning off our stop cock. Presumably because our houses used to be one, we have their stop cock in our house, so if we turn it off then nobody has any water. Meanwhile Robin the farrier was due, and texted to say he was running early. Early! What sort of horse professional arrives early for anything? I remonstrated with him but he was unrepentant, muttering something about refits. The boys were done first and I don't know why but I always feel a thrill of undeserved pride when Robin talks about how perfect Q's feet are, as it were anything to do with me. But they are perfect. Maybe I'll get some photos so you can see just how beautiful they are. And clean, in this weather, which is one of the few nice things about the snow|horse interface. Anyway - the girls were done next and behaved impeccably. Much less anxious. Again, pride, as though any of it were really anything to do with me instead of that amazing Luso temperament. OK we introduced them gradually but it's hardly rocket science.
Meanwhile Sid was trying to get home from London. The same old story that was repeated up and down the land - no trains, and very little information as to when one might be expected. Eventually he managed to get home about 4ish, making an 8 hour round trip for an hour and a half in the office and the collection of one laptop. I left him making a fire and finished off the yard, bringing the girls in, the goats, herding the chickens in, doing dinners etc etc practically dead on my feet by this stage and wondering how on earth I was going to summon the energy to hump 50 bales of hay shortly, when Pheel was due round with the Christmas consignment of hay. In the end we agreed that he'd send it round this morning instead, which was nice as I was completely and utterly battered by this stage and really, really needing to sit on my arse for a while.
So today I decided to take a different approach.Up at 6, as mentioned, and why not just get everything done first thing. Girls out, hayed round, mucked out x4 + goats, goats out etc etc, in quite short order. Hay arrived at 8:30, made the boys a cup of tea and the hay barn was stuffed to the brim by the time I went back out there. Timed that well :) So now all that remains today is to do waters and feeds and bring the girls in later, which leaves me several hours stretching ahead during which I can actually relax. But doing what? It seems I've forgotten how to sit about taking it easy and I keep thinking of all the things I could and should be doing. So I thought I know, I'll make a list. It's a useful thing to do but one which I can do from the comfort and warmth of indoors. So here's my list of the things I'd like to do over the holidays:
* clean out the feed room
* clean out the rug room
* clean out the grooming room
* tidy the bedroom DONE
* finish Christmas shopping
* arrange hay delivery DONE
* arrange for muck clamp emptying
* arrange for snow melt so I can ride
* milk Angie :wibble:
If I get all of this done I shall be (a) pleased and (b) knackered.
Yesterday I seemed to be at it ALL DAY. Why does that happen I wonder. Took ages to get both cars started in order to get the ovlov to the garage. Sid had to go in to work to collect his laptop, so once I got back from dropping him off I set about yard duties. OK so having everyone out in snowy fields with frozen troughs there is the ongoing requirement to minister to their needs for water and forage, which takes some time. The boys come and go as they please, and continue to do so now that we've flattened the bad bits outside the back of their stables (in a blizzard), but the girls need to be taken out and so do the goats. And it's not really necessary to put the beds up every day either. Technically I suppose it's not essential to take the boys' rugs off for a bit so they can roll and prance in the snow either. But this doesn't really explain how I can spend the best part of the day arsing around out there.
Dan next door had a mains water leak which necessitated turning off our stop cock. Presumably because our houses used to be one, we have their stop cock in our house, so if we turn it off then nobody has any water. Meanwhile Robin the farrier was due, and texted to say he was running early. Early! What sort of horse professional arrives early for anything? I remonstrated with him but he was unrepentant, muttering something about refits. The boys were done first and I don't know why but I always feel a thrill of undeserved pride when Robin talks about how perfect Q's feet are, as it were anything to do with me. But they are perfect. Maybe I'll get some photos so you can see just how beautiful they are. And clean, in this weather, which is one of the few nice things about the snow|horse interface. Anyway - the girls were done next and behaved impeccably. Much less anxious. Again, pride, as though any of it were really anything to do with me instead of that amazing Luso temperament. OK we introduced them gradually but it's hardly rocket science.
Meanwhile Sid was trying to get home from London. The same old story that was repeated up and down the land - no trains, and very little information as to when one might be expected. Eventually he managed to get home about 4ish, making an 8 hour round trip for an hour and a half in the office and the collection of one laptop. I left him making a fire and finished off the yard, bringing the girls in, the goats, herding the chickens in, doing dinners etc etc practically dead on my feet by this stage and wondering how on earth I was going to summon the energy to hump 50 bales of hay shortly, when Pheel was due round with the Christmas consignment of hay. In the end we agreed that he'd send it round this morning instead, which was nice as I was completely and utterly battered by this stage and really, really needing to sit on my arse for a while.
So today I decided to take a different approach.Up at 6, as mentioned, and why not just get everything done first thing. Girls out, hayed round, mucked out x4 + goats, goats out etc etc, in quite short order. Hay arrived at 8:30, made the boys a cup of tea and the hay barn was stuffed to the brim by the time I went back out there. Timed that well :) So now all that remains today is to do waters and feeds and bring the girls in later, which leaves me several hours stretching ahead during which I can actually relax. But doing what? It seems I've forgotten how to sit about taking it easy and I keep thinking of all the things I could and should be doing. So I thought I know, I'll make a list. It's a useful thing to do but one which I can do from the comfort and warmth of indoors. So here's my list of the things I'd like to do over the holidays:
* clean out the feed room
* clean out the rug room
* clean out the grooming room
* tidy the bedroom DONE
* finish Christmas shopping
* arrange hay delivery DONE
* arrange for muck clamp emptying
* arrange for snow melt so I can ride
* milk Angie :wibble:
If I get all of this done I shall be (a) pleased and (b) knackered.
Sunday 12 December 2010
Arse, meet sofa; it's been a while
Can we just take it as read now that every weekend is as busy as a really, really busy thing? Cos I've given up trying to convey just how busy it is. Ah good.
The power of persuasion
So I get to about 3.30pm on Friday and then it hits me, like the proverbial sack of excrement. I forgot to phone for Sid's prescription, that he'd specifically asked me to do and reminded me about only that morning. Arrghhh fuckety doodads. Prescription line closed, only one thing for it: call up the surgery and PLEAD. The result has to be some sort of record: from request to filled prescription in about 2.5 hours. This is what can happen when (a) you are very very very nice to people, and (b) the planets are favourably aligned.
Friday night: when Knickers and I returned home there was a chicken in Q's manger, which I only discovered when I was about to dump several sections of hay on her head. There were two in T's stable and the rest out the back. Took us about an hour and a half to do evening stables and attend to everyone, at which point the only thing to do was to retire indoors and bolt the door. Otherwise, fast food: check; Kopparberg cider: check Shitty film: check.Oh, and a message to say that students had reoccupied the Library.
Saturday
Knickers did earlies for me but I was up about 7:30 anyway. Why? you might reasonably enquire. Well, because there are only so many hours in the day and very few of those are conducted in daylight atm. Needs must and all that. Nevertheless I was feeling particularly battered and it somehow took me about an hour and a half to put up four beds, do waters and hay, and oversee the goats doing their thing about the yard. We've taken to letting the chickens out during the day (it's either that or they let themselves out anyway so we might as well maintain some vestige of an idea that it's us running the show).
Did the rounds of farm shop, feed merchants etc and that took me an hour and a half too. Quick restorative bacon butty and coffee (more a 15 minute affair) then back out there to work the boys. Lacking energy of any description I worked them both in hand, which is no bad thing after three weeks off. Both boys were full of the joys of, er, deepest winter and treated me to some very Big Trots indeed; T going for the power extension (jaw dropping) and Q for the passage, albeit one using no postural muscles whatsoever and his tail up over his bum like an Arabian, but a joy to behold. So nice to see them strutting their stuff and enjoying being horses.
It seemed to take ages to get everyone sorted in the evening, but this was because I was starting to feel rather overwrought with tiredness. Luckily Sid was cooking so I was able to take myself off for a nice hot bath clutching a mince pie and a glass of Baileys. Bliss.
The meal was fab, and turned into a bit of a celebration for Knickers having recently got two firsts and a 2-1 in her courseworks and Sid for having broken the back of a particularly testy piece of code. So we had chicken and asparagus soup to start, pheasant au vin (courtesy of Pheel) which was my first time eating pheasant - very nice - and sticky toffee pudding made by Knickers, all washed down with a very nice Amarone. Sid broke open the home made sloe gin and all I can say is Jesus Christ! To be handled with the greatest care.
Late night ensued.
Sunday
Knickers did earlies again and I was up about 8 to prep for morning lesson with Mandy. Somehow managed to be prepped and in the arena for 9:20, which was a bit previous since the lesson wasn't until 10, but still it made for a nice slow and considered warmup, no bad thing for T and his sticky stifle. At one end of the arena Q was charging at T with his ears laid back and at the other the mares (natch! every time without fail) chose to graze right next to the fence so T was doing the head down snaky neck herding thing. For my part I chose to ignore it all and just get on anyway. It was either that or just give up and go back indoors.
The lesson was excellent for two reasons. First, the first trot was soft and flowing and really rather splendid, so I was thrilled with that. The second was that we worked on some very nice forward and soft trot with him really out to the contact and relaxed. As he's quite a bit of a bigger mover than Q and I've had to put on my big girl pants to really just go forwards with him, this was really quite something and I could have ridden him all day. I could feel him flagging after a while though as he's had little work, so we finished before he felt the need to voice any concerns about it. Really thrilled with him!
What next: breakfast, quick ten minute sit and sort out everyone. Goats out and about on the yard, chickens also. Finish off beds, do waters, fill nets with haylage, fill hay mangers etc etc etc. Put goats out with T. All seems well. Took Puppy for a walk, went shopping. And at this juncture I really must pause for a moment and reflect on the deep irritation of othe old boy who works on the checkout at our local supermarket. I guess he's about 60 or so and he's a pleasant enough chap but I just wish he could find it within his heart to either (a) move at a pace a little further along the velocity quotient than "glacial" and indeed, it would be so much better if he could do something about that habit of his of thrusting each item at the bar code reader in a way that is both aggressive and deeply suspicious. Often as not, said bar code reader doesn't stand a chance in hell and the unfortunate customer then has to stand there while he taps in the bar code number with equal parts ferocity and pause. I find this an exquisite torture, to stand there while this wrongness is perpetuated time after time, and I literally have to grab myself around the throat to keep myself from screaming. I thank God there's not a precipitous cliff in the vicinity, or I might have had to fling myself off it before now. Likewise, it's just as well there's no handy vat of acid or implement for the plucking out of eyes, or I might well have done myself some serious mischief while standing there on innumerable occasions, waiting for him to complete this series of really rather simple tasks. And the worst of it is he is quite sweet. Just to finish off the boiling cauldron of emotions that he has perpetuated within, he dares at the conclusion to utter the words "have a nice evening". Or what's left of it, presumably.
When I finally made it back to Luso Towers, I made spag bol and industrial quantities of cauliflower cheese (ultimate comfort food) with the assistance of (a) Metallica and (b) a Kopparberg cider. Bring the girls in, feed round, and finally, at last, SIT ON ARSE. Eat copiously. And so endeth another weekend.
ONE MORE WEEK OF WORK BEFORE THE HOLS **WOOT**
The power of persuasion
So I get to about 3.30pm on Friday and then it hits me, like the proverbial sack of excrement. I forgot to phone for Sid's prescription, that he'd specifically asked me to do and reminded me about only that morning. Arrghhh fuckety doodads. Prescription line closed, only one thing for it: call up the surgery and PLEAD. The result has to be some sort of record: from request to filled prescription in about 2.5 hours. This is what can happen when (a) you are very very very nice to people, and (b) the planets are favourably aligned.
Friday night: when Knickers and I returned home there was a chicken in Q's manger, which I only discovered when I was about to dump several sections of hay on her head. There were two in T's stable and the rest out the back. Took us about an hour and a half to do evening stables and attend to everyone, at which point the only thing to do was to retire indoors and bolt the door. Otherwise, fast food: check; Kopparberg cider: check Shitty film: check.Oh, and a message to say that students had reoccupied the Library.
Saturday
Knickers did earlies for me but I was up about 7:30 anyway. Why? you might reasonably enquire. Well, because there are only so many hours in the day and very few of those are conducted in daylight atm. Needs must and all that. Nevertheless I was feeling particularly battered and it somehow took me about an hour and a half to put up four beds, do waters and hay, and oversee the goats doing their thing about the yard. We've taken to letting the chickens out during the day (it's either that or they let themselves out anyway so we might as well maintain some vestige of an idea that it's us running the show).
Did the rounds of farm shop, feed merchants etc and that took me an hour and a half too. Quick restorative bacon butty and coffee (more a 15 minute affair) then back out there to work the boys. Lacking energy of any description I worked them both in hand, which is no bad thing after three weeks off. Both boys were full of the joys of, er, deepest winter and treated me to some very Big Trots indeed; T going for the power extension (jaw dropping) and Q for the passage, albeit one using no postural muscles whatsoever and his tail up over his bum like an Arabian, but a joy to behold. So nice to see them strutting their stuff and enjoying being horses.
It seemed to take ages to get everyone sorted in the evening, but this was because I was starting to feel rather overwrought with tiredness. Luckily Sid was cooking so I was able to take myself off for a nice hot bath clutching a mince pie and a glass of Baileys. Bliss.
The meal was fab, and turned into a bit of a celebration for Knickers having recently got two firsts and a 2-1 in her courseworks and Sid for having broken the back of a particularly testy piece of code. So we had chicken and asparagus soup to start, pheasant au vin (courtesy of Pheel) which was my first time eating pheasant - very nice - and sticky toffee pudding made by Knickers, all washed down with a very nice Amarone. Sid broke open the home made sloe gin and all I can say is Jesus Christ! To be handled with the greatest care.
Late night ensued.
Sunday
Knickers did earlies again and I was up about 8 to prep for morning lesson with Mandy. Somehow managed to be prepped and in the arena for 9:20, which was a bit previous since the lesson wasn't until 10, but still it made for a nice slow and considered warmup, no bad thing for T and his sticky stifle. At one end of the arena Q was charging at T with his ears laid back and at the other the mares (natch! every time without fail) chose to graze right next to the fence so T was doing the head down snaky neck herding thing. For my part I chose to ignore it all and just get on anyway. It was either that or just give up and go back indoors.
The lesson was excellent for two reasons. First, the first trot was soft and flowing and really rather splendid, so I was thrilled with that. The second was that we worked on some very nice forward and soft trot with him really out to the contact and relaxed. As he's quite a bit of a bigger mover than Q and I've had to put on my big girl pants to really just go forwards with him, this was really quite something and I could have ridden him all day. I could feel him flagging after a while though as he's had little work, so we finished before he felt the need to voice any concerns about it. Really thrilled with him!
What next: breakfast, quick ten minute sit and sort out everyone. Goats out and about on the yard, chickens also. Finish off beds, do waters, fill nets with haylage, fill hay mangers etc etc etc. Put goats out with T. All seems well. Took Puppy for a walk, went shopping. And at this juncture I really must pause for a moment and reflect on the deep irritation of othe old boy who works on the checkout at our local supermarket. I guess he's about 60 or so and he's a pleasant enough chap but I just wish he could find it within his heart to either (a) move at a pace a little further along the velocity quotient than "glacial" and indeed, it would be so much better if he could do something about that habit of his of thrusting each item at the bar code reader in a way that is both aggressive and deeply suspicious. Often as not, said bar code reader doesn't stand a chance in hell and the unfortunate customer then has to stand there while he taps in the bar code number with equal parts ferocity and pause. I find this an exquisite torture, to stand there while this wrongness is perpetuated time after time, and I literally have to grab myself around the throat to keep myself from screaming. I thank God there's not a precipitous cliff in the vicinity, or I might have had to fling myself off it before now. Likewise, it's just as well there's no handy vat of acid or implement for the plucking out of eyes, or I might well have done myself some serious mischief while standing there on innumerable occasions, waiting for him to complete this series of really rather simple tasks. And the worst of it is he is quite sweet. Just to finish off the boiling cauldron of emotions that he has perpetuated within, he dares at the conclusion to utter the words "have a nice evening". Or what's left of it, presumably.
When I finally made it back to Luso Towers, I made spag bol and industrial quantities of cauliflower cheese (ultimate comfort food) with the assistance of (a) Metallica and (b) a Kopparberg cider. Bring the girls in, feed round, and finally, at last, SIT ON ARSE. Eat copiously. And so endeth another weekend.
ONE MORE WEEK OF WORK BEFORE THE HOLS **WOOT**
Sunday 5 December 2010
New superlative required
"Busy" doesn't quite cut it any longer. Even "busy as buggery" falls short.
To the day:
Knickers does earlies feeding round, I get a lie in. Finally forced out of my pit by the overwhelming cute snuffly noises coming from the other side of the bed around 7:30am.
Make tea, go outside. Get rug on Xacra, very easy. What a sweet girl. Alfama; not so much. Two person job. Give up, turn out both girls together. Might sound silly, but never put out two horses together before. Sweet. Tea is cold. Arses.
Let goats out. Angie incites Gwen to try shagging her after bleating all night for a passing billy without success. Gwen gives it her best shot, but her efforts are ultimately unsuccessful. Stable duties: skip out and tidy four stables. Steam hay. Put hay out for girls. Put the goats away. Go in for breakfast. Make bacon butties all round. Coffee. And tea, to make up for the one that went cold.
Back out on the yard. Bring goats out. Put in pen. Angie attempts to gore Gwen and Gerry. Hmmm. Take goats to paddock with lots of thistles. Eventually they settle and at least one thistle is consumed. At last! Some payback. Knickers poo picks, while I undertake some temporary fencing in two paddocks, so we can strip graze winter grazing. Girls go out on paddock next to Q. Q pleased; girls nonplussed. Goats go in their shelter. Woot! Knickers and I drag wheelbarrow full of poo back to yard. Very very hard work. It's a mud bath next to the girls' shelter.
Lunch, and a sit down for 15 mins. Yowser.
Afternoon doings. Waters, haylage, let chickens out, clean out chickens. Epic sweeping of yard. Work both boys. Prepare dinners and morning doings. Go in for a bit. Like, a whole hour!
Off to Pheel's house on top secret mission, involving cooing and snuggling. I've probably said too much already. Arrange for the perimeter to have stock proof fencing installed. No need to draw a picture as to why. Return with two pheasants.
Back from Pheel's. Temperature has plummeted. Bring girls in. This is a definite progress! Day 1: chase girls around for half an hour before coralling them in their shelter. Day 2: girls corral themselves in shelter within 5 mins. Day 3? Girls waiting at the gate :)
Feed round. Go indoors. Cook. Do blog.
Sometime during the next two hours: eat vast quantities and enjoy a small tipple of something suitable.
To the day:
Knickers does earlies feeding round, I get a lie in. Finally forced out of my pit by the overwhelming cute snuffly noises coming from the other side of the bed around 7:30am.
Make tea, go outside. Get rug on Xacra, very easy. What a sweet girl. Alfama; not so much. Two person job. Give up, turn out both girls together. Might sound silly, but never put out two horses together before. Sweet. Tea is cold. Arses.
Let goats out. Angie incites Gwen to try shagging her after bleating all night for a passing billy without success. Gwen gives it her best shot, but her efforts are ultimately unsuccessful. Stable duties: skip out and tidy four stables. Steam hay. Put hay out for girls. Put the goats away. Go in for breakfast. Make bacon butties all round. Coffee. And tea, to make up for the one that went cold.
Back out on the yard. Bring goats out. Put in pen. Angie attempts to gore Gwen and Gerry. Hmmm. Take goats to paddock with lots of thistles. Eventually they settle and at least one thistle is consumed. At last! Some payback. Knickers poo picks, while I undertake some temporary fencing in two paddocks, so we can strip graze winter grazing. Girls go out on paddock next to Q. Q pleased; girls nonplussed. Goats go in their shelter. Woot! Knickers and I drag wheelbarrow full of poo back to yard. Very very hard work. It's a mud bath next to the girls' shelter.
Lunch, and a sit down for 15 mins. Yowser.
Afternoon doings. Waters, haylage, let chickens out, clean out chickens. Epic sweeping of yard. Work both boys. Prepare dinners and morning doings. Go in for a bit. Like, a whole hour!
Off to Pheel's house on top secret mission, involving cooing and snuggling. I've probably said too much already. Arrange for the perimeter to have stock proof fencing installed. No need to draw a picture as to why. Return with two pheasants.
Back from Pheel's. Temperature has plummeted. Bring girls in. This is a definite progress! Day 1: chase girls around for half an hour before coralling them in their shelter. Day 2: girls corral themselves in shelter within 5 mins. Day 3? Girls waiting at the gate :)
Feed round. Go indoors. Cook. Do blog.
Sometime during the next two hours: eat vast quantities and enjoy a small tipple of something suitable.
Friday 3 December 2010
Progress
We ended up bringng the girls in last night as part of our drive to habituate them, and also to get their rugs on. This was quite an operation in tact since they've never had one on before, but they were amazing. So that was good. No attempts to get them off or anything, just acceptance. Gawd bless that Luso temperament.
At last it's stopped snowing but the situation with the trains was best described as diabolical, so working at home for the fourth day in a row. That doesn't mean a lie in though, of course. Lie ins are for Other People, although I did curl up on the sofa about 7ish for a while.
Popped out at lunch time to let the goats out and they all trucked along after me to the mares' field, who were happily munching on a big pile of hay. It gives you an idea what it must be like being part of a herd, because everywhere you go you're surrounded by goats. They came into the paddock with me and milled around while I cleaned the girls' shelter, then came to look over the goat shelter. At one point there were six of us clustered around a wheelbarrow full of hay, which was quite something I can tell you.
Dora came out with me, sporting her Puppy Parka, and the cats of course, gambolling and galloping around like the small furry and well-fed bundles of energy that they are, and the goats too. Our multi-species doings about the yard have taken on a whole new dimension. I mooched over to the picadeiro to collect the fork, and they all mooched over behind me: Angie, lagging behind, proceeded at a brisk waddle. Fork prcoured, I walked back up the yard and looked behind me to see them all tottering along to catch up. Feeling puckish, I started to run. Oh God - I'd have laid strong odds against Angie having a higher gear, but bugger me backwards over a rusty barn door if she didn't break into a gallop, along with the other two girls. I've never seen anything quite like it, and couldn't continue my run because I was too busy whooping with glee. There's nothing quite like a galloping goat, I've learned, especially a well-padded one, to raise your spirits.
It's about -6 or so tonight and we've brought the girls in again. Boys are in for the first night of the winter, mainly because heavy rain is expected tomorrow and at these temperatures it's going to turn the place into an ice rink. We'll make a small area outside the stables for them tomorrow so they can come and go a bit. If the girls' paddock is too dangerous they can go out in the picadeiro. The joys of winter.
At last it's stopped snowing but the situation with the trains was best described as diabolical, so working at home for the fourth day in a row. That doesn't mean a lie in though, of course. Lie ins are for Other People, although I did curl up on the sofa about 7ish for a while.
Popped out at lunch time to let the goats out and they all trucked along after me to the mares' field, who were happily munching on a big pile of hay. It gives you an idea what it must be like being part of a herd, because everywhere you go you're surrounded by goats. They came into the paddock with me and milled around while I cleaned the girls' shelter, then came to look over the goat shelter. At one point there were six of us clustered around a wheelbarrow full of hay, which was quite something I can tell you.
Dora came out with me, sporting her Puppy Parka, and the cats of course, gambolling and galloping around like the small furry and well-fed bundles of energy that they are, and the goats too. Our multi-species doings about the yard have taken on a whole new dimension. I mooched over to the picadeiro to collect the fork, and they all mooched over behind me: Angie, lagging behind, proceeded at a brisk waddle. Fork prcoured, I walked back up the yard and looked behind me to see them all tottering along to catch up. Feeling puckish, I started to run. Oh God - I'd have laid strong odds against Angie having a higher gear, but bugger me backwards over a rusty barn door if she didn't break into a gallop, along with the other two girls. I've never seen anything quite like it, and couldn't continue my run because I was too busy whooping with glee. There's nothing quite like a galloping goat, I've learned, especially a well-padded one, to raise your spirits.
It's about -6 or so tonight and we've brought the girls in again. Boys are in for the first night of the winter, mainly because heavy rain is expected tomorrow and at these temperatures it's going to turn the place into an ice rink. We'll make a small area outside the stables for them tomorrow so they can come and go a bit. If the girls' paddock is too dangerous they can go out in the picadeiro. The joys of winter.
Thursday 2 December 2010
Wintry doings
Unsurprisingly there is a theme running through all current doings, on account of the fact that it hasn't stopped snowing since Monday night. I had to take a view on Tuesday morning since the trains were best described as erratic. Delays and cancellations - ugh - so stayed home. I can't afford to be stranded away from home. At least we got a consignment of hay safely ensconced in the hay barn on Monday night - poor Knickers got roped in to help Mark and had just finished humping 50 bales as I got home from work. Good timing I thought.
Monday night: onset of snow; close off the summer paddocks; boys now only have access to winter paddocks. Had to up the ruggage in view of the Taters Factor of 10. Struggling to leave the girls unrugged; may have to bow to the intrinsic need to wrap them up.
Tuesday: snow. Working from home. Documentation for the most part, interspersed only by a dodgy moment during which I almost set fire to the house, all because I didn't put the grate part of the wood burner back together before starting a fire. Open doors to chuck in more wood; wallop. Logs fall out onto carpet. Result: one singed carpet; one very smoky room and a coughing Rach. Ack.
Ministering to creatures in the snow takes twice as long as it would ordinarily, but at least we could get it done during daylight hours.
Wednesday: usual 5:30 start: more snow. Trains: chaotic. Stay put. Start work 7am. No point going back to bed really. I enjoy being snowed in, with the proviso that there is sufficient food in for all the creatures. Also, it meant that I was at home when Bob came to deliver our two new charges, Nadja and Grace the ex-MoD goats. Ahhhh. Instructed to conduct introductions in a large space, we let them all out on the yard and would have stood back to watch were it not for a variety of bovids milling about among us, determined to conduct operations from behind someone's legs. This is all very well but a bit squeaky bum when there are horns involved and you're not quite sure how goat intros tend to go. Things went pretty well; predictably Angie took charge but generally speaking a good first encounter. Best bit was when I went off to get the hose to do waters and the three of them followed me to the garden :) I've become accustomed to being followed about by one goat, but three was something else again.
It hasn't stopped snowing at all and taking ages as a consequence to do the creatures. Alfama is coping well but Xacra has dropped a bit of weight, so keeping an eye on her. We decided to lay beds last night about 8pm just in case we have to bring them in. This involved relocating all the fencing and other tools that we stored in the remaining two spare stables through thick snow, and humping multiple bales of bedding. I wonder sometimes is we are quite mad, but it's there should we need it.
So we have nine stables and no spares left. How does that work? T in one, grooming room, rug room, Q, Angie, Nadja and Grace, the chickens, emergency stables for Xacra and Alfama. Eventually the goat stables will be freed up but not until this cold snap is over and they can go out in the field, and make use of the much anticipated shelter. Pheel (uber farmer and builder of Things) has been to inspect said shelter and gave us an 8/10 for effort, so we are thrilled. We got extra points for nailing on the onduline roof correctly.
And finally, we've had a trailer load (and I do mean a large trailer attached to a tractor type of load) of wood delivered to help keep us goingg through the winter.
Thursday: 7am and snowed in again. No trains going to London. Deep snow outside. Glands up and the beginnings of some unpleasantness. I think this is because I have stepped off the treadmill for a few days and wallop.
Monday night: onset of snow; close off the summer paddocks; boys now only have access to winter paddocks. Had to up the ruggage in view of the Taters Factor of 10. Struggling to leave the girls unrugged; may have to bow to the intrinsic need to wrap them up.
Tuesday: snow. Working from home. Documentation for the most part, interspersed only by a dodgy moment during which I almost set fire to the house, all because I didn't put the grate part of the wood burner back together before starting a fire. Open doors to chuck in more wood; wallop. Logs fall out onto carpet. Result: one singed carpet; one very smoky room and a coughing Rach. Ack.
Ministering to creatures in the snow takes twice as long as it would ordinarily, but at least we could get it done during daylight hours.
Wednesday: usual 5:30 start: more snow. Trains: chaotic. Stay put. Start work 7am. No point going back to bed really. I enjoy being snowed in, with the proviso that there is sufficient food in for all the creatures. Also, it meant that I was at home when Bob came to deliver our two new charges, Nadja and Grace the ex-MoD goats. Ahhhh. Instructed to conduct introductions in a large space, we let them all out on the yard and would have stood back to watch were it not for a variety of bovids milling about among us, determined to conduct operations from behind someone's legs. This is all very well but a bit squeaky bum when there are horns involved and you're not quite sure how goat intros tend to go. Things went pretty well; predictably Angie took charge but generally speaking a good first encounter. Best bit was when I went off to get the hose to do waters and the three of them followed me to the garden :) I've become accustomed to being followed about by one goat, but three was something else again.
It hasn't stopped snowing at all and taking ages as a consequence to do the creatures. Alfama is coping well but Xacra has dropped a bit of weight, so keeping an eye on her. We decided to lay beds last night about 8pm just in case we have to bring them in. This involved relocating all the fencing and other tools that we stored in the remaining two spare stables through thick snow, and humping multiple bales of bedding. I wonder sometimes is we are quite mad, but it's there should we need it.
So we have nine stables and no spares left. How does that work? T in one, grooming room, rug room, Q, Angie, Nadja and Grace, the chickens, emergency stables for Xacra and Alfama. Eventually the goat stables will be freed up but not until this cold snap is over and they can go out in the field, and make use of the much anticipated shelter. Pheel (uber farmer and builder of Things) has been to inspect said shelter and gave us an 8/10 for effort, so we are thrilled. We got extra points for nailing on the onduline roof correctly.
And finally, we've had a trailer load (and I do mean a large trailer attached to a tractor type of load) of wood delivered to help keep us goingg through the winter.
Thursday: 7am and snowed in again. No trains going to London. Deep snow outside. Glands up and the beginnings of some unpleasantness. I think this is because I have stepped off the treadmill for a few days and wallop.
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