This probably deserves its own entry as it's been a bit of a revelation, as well as completely unexpected.
It all started at the Bento clinic I attended back at the end of July, where there were many exhortations from the great man to develop my ridden position, as well as opportunities to discuss with mates the perils of hitting that particular time of life where you can no longer eat as much cake as you want without developing your own muffin-esque waistline accoutrements. I've no real idea what it was specifically that has galvanised me into action but the effect of it has been quite noticeable and I've ended up doing things that I never really considered as applying to me. I'm wondering if it is the onset of some sort of midlfe crisis and worry that if I'm not careful I may soon be driving a Porsche.
First I decided (after some years of cogitation along the lines of "ah yes, I really should get my beans in a row to do this..", it must be noted) to join a Pilates class for general posture and flexibility. So I looked into the available options and decided that the only feasible way I could cram it in would be to attend a class at the gym at work. It didn't really occur to me that actually joining the gym would be a realistic course of action until I weighed up the financial options, which it turned out were stacked against me:
1) Operate on a pay as you go basis, paying £5.50 per class plus a £25 "admin fee", or
2) Join said gym at a cost of £26 per month
As the people who run things at the gym know very well, two classes per week @ £5.50 a pop make little economic sense, so I was forced to conclude that joining would be the way forward. I tried to persuade a number of friends and colleagues to come along with me but in the end was forced to conclude that I was on my own and must therefore grow a pair and go on my own - feeling, it must be said, like a mildly wobbly fraud at the very idea. So off I toddled, completed the relevant paperwork, handed over my fee and booked my induction.
Meanwhile, back at the clinic my friend Susan was telling me all about how her own Pilates adventures had transformed her riding and how she had consulted a nutritionist to discuss dietary changes to help both lose a bit of weight and gain some much needed energy levels. She's in the same position as me in that she works in London, commutes a long way by train in order to fund the lifestyle, only to find she has very little energy to devote to her homestead and horses by the time she gets home. Hmm. All sounds very familiar, Rachibum, does it not.
Anyway, according to said nutritionist, the mistake that many people make is not having protein for breakfast. Aha! Although I was feeling pretty pleased with my exisitng quite healthy granola, fruit and natural yogurt breakfasts, neither those nor my propensity to opt for a plate full of carbs at lunch were doing me any favours in the energy stakes, so an overhaul was called for. What the nutritionist recommended was this:
http://www.hollandandbarrett.com/pages/product_detail.asp?pid=2521&prodid=2786&cid=141&sid=0
First impressions on trying it were along the lines of "Christ, that's really rancid" but in fact it grows on you, and particularly once you realise just how good it is at delivering both energy and satiety for a good few hours. Result!
Next step was to ditch the lunch time carbs in favour of a salad and some protein, which also helps. As a result I have found that my appetite has been steadily shrinking to more manageable levels so I'm eating a lot less at night, too, and what's more I find I am tending towards more healthy suppers, give or take the odd pizza or kebab. I never thought I'd see the day and it reminded me of a "health and wellbeing" course that I attended at work last year which cited all these things - healthy diet, exercise, not so much cake, yadda yadda yadda.
What's more, I've been going to the gym three times a week and really rather enjoying it. Of all the things I might reasonably be expected to blog about, this wasn't one of them. And it's spreading! Sid is becoming a firm fan of shakes, having discovered that if you whisk them well they are much more palatable, and as a family unit we are starting to favour them even as weekend breakfasts for the energy and general good feelings that they engender. Who knew it would come to this? It's very obvious if you then have something like a bacon butty instead just how much of a sap in energy levels that gives by comparison.
So if I sound like a religious zealot expounded the virtues of my new found godhead then so be it, I don't care. It's helped me no end through the weekend's rubber humping endeavours, I can tell you. And I'm writing this not only as an aide memoire should I slip from the path of virtue, but also to spread the good tidings to anyone who, like me, suffers from a lack of energy and really wants to do something lest they bury themselves under a compensatory mountain of cake and coffee.
Sunday, 21 August 2011
Catch up
You'll be unsurprised to learn that things at Luso Towers have been very busy. In the last entry I mentioned that we had collected two trailer loads of rubber matting a couple of weeks back, which was followed the next morning by another trailer load delivered courtesy of Pheel's boys. So that's three loads of matting, and in case you wondered how much rubber matting it is possible to fit in to one 12 x 12 stable, the answer is three trailer loads - so long as you don't plan to close the stable door afterwards. That's a lot of rubber.
Over the last couple of days we have hauled, humped and dragged what must be several hundredweight of the stuff into stables and spent equivalent amounts of time power hosing it down, with the result that six of the nine stables are now fitted out. Which is nice. Plus we all now look like Geoff Capes. We can't do the others until the mods are finished, but it looks as though there will be enough left over to do the shelters and the dog run (!).
Our little herd is all back together after their sojourn at the vet clinic and I am trying not to think about whether, after the injection of (a) a bucket load of cash and (b) several doses of frozen semen, the girls are indeed pregnant. Argh. Plenty of distractions, not the least of which was the final push to get all the forms signed off and completed to send off for the younglings' passports. Only time will tell whether Gualter's passport will arrive in time to take him and Alfama to the breed show.
Meanwhile preps are under way to bring T up to fitness for the proposed classes, and he has been going very well indeed. Each ride finds him more relaxed and with progress to report - less tension on the left rein and trot work really going very well. Hitherto I've been pleased to get some softness during the course of the trot but today for the first time we kept it through transitions and changes of rein on both reins, and I really feel we are starting to gel. He is an extraordinary horse to ride and I can't express what joy it is to finally feel I am getting somewhere and that he is really enjoying his work. Knickers is working both boys three times per week, which is a huge help, and she is really enjoying it. Good lads they are.
We're trying to get a rider over from Portugal to present him at the breed show but logistics all need to be worked out, so I've been busy trying to work out what is possible too. And best of all, I now have a week off work to immerse myself in horsey doings, and hopefully get Pheel to start on the outstanding work to finish off the all weather turnout areas, convert one of the stables into a cross tie bay and the other into a larger stable for possible weaning or foaling. Not to mention ideas to try to convert an area into a covering room for a dummy.
In other news Franklin D. Husky has had his plums whipped off and was feeling very sorry for himself, but is bouncing back with the amazing powers of recovery possessed only by the young and vital. He's confined to walks on the lead for a few days but coping pretty well.
Over the last couple of days we have hauled, humped and dragged what must be several hundredweight of the stuff into stables and spent equivalent amounts of time power hosing it down, with the result that six of the nine stables are now fitted out. Which is nice. Plus we all now look like Geoff Capes. We can't do the others until the mods are finished, but it looks as though there will be enough left over to do the shelters and the dog run (!).
Our little herd is all back together after their sojourn at the vet clinic and I am trying not to think about whether, after the injection of (a) a bucket load of cash and (b) several doses of frozen semen, the girls are indeed pregnant. Argh. Plenty of distractions, not the least of which was the final push to get all the forms signed off and completed to send off for the younglings' passports. Only time will tell whether Gualter's passport will arrive in time to take him and Alfama to the breed show.
Meanwhile preps are under way to bring T up to fitness for the proposed classes, and he has been going very well indeed. Each ride finds him more relaxed and with progress to report - less tension on the left rein and trot work really going very well. Hitherto I've been pleased to get some softness during the course of the trot but today for the first time we kept it through transitions and changes of rein on both reins, and I really feel we are starting to gel. He is an extraordinary horse to ride and I can't express what joy it is to finally feel I am getting somewhere and that he is really enjoying his work. Knickers is working both boys three times per week, which is a huge help, and she is really enjoying it. Good lads they are.
We're trying to get a rider over from Portugal to present him at the breed show but logistics all need to be worked out, so I've been busy trying to work out what is possible too. And best of all, I now have a week off work to immerse myself in horsey doings, and hopefully get Pheel to start on the outstanding work to finish off the all weather turnout areas, convert one of the stables into a cross tie bay and the other into a larger stable for possible weaning or foaling. Not to mention ideas to try to convert an area into a covering room for a dummy.
In other news Franklin D. Husky has had his plums whipped off and was feeling very sorry for himself, but is bouncing back with the amazing powers of recovery possessed only by the young and vital. He's confined to walks on the lead for a few days but coping pretty well.
Sunday, 7 August 2011
Long weekend, ups and downs
The vet came on Wednesday to scan the girls, only to find that Alfama had a particularly ripe follicle necessitating that we got her in for AI at our earliest convenience. As a result I took a couple of days off and arranged to take her and Gualter in on Thursday. It took a bit of convincing to get Gualter on the trailer and judging by the way he leapt up into it I believe his issue to be that he doesn't want to step on the ramp. It was quite a sight seeing a gazelle-like leaping colt heading straight for me, but he managed to miss both me and the ramp, at which feat I was personally very impressed.
On arrival at the vets we took them straight into the barn for Alfama to be scanned again. This was particularly intersting to me because although the girls have been scanned many times this season, it was the first time that I've been on hand to see what a ripe-ish follicle looks like. We turned them out in what might now be considered their usual paddock, and drove back home. Most of the rest of the afternoon was taken up transferring wood to the new wood pile and taking the dogs for a long walk. By the time I'd finished I was too battered to ride - I really should learn to ride first then do other jobs afterwards, because thinking "oh I'll just..." really Does Not Work. In the evening we had a chap round to discuss some land matters, at which point T decided to put on a show for him involving flat gallops, caprioles, pings, star jumps and flirting displays to the mares, and I'm really not sure whether it was T or I who were the most surprised that the chap took No Notice Whatosver. Funny.
We had a very busy day on Friday, cleaning up the garden, putting the roof on the wood pile (involving standing on tip toe on top of a ladder, banging nails into onduline sheets at precarious angles) etc etc. Knickers went off to do some stuff with a friend at 2ish so all that remained for me was to work both boys, hump more wood and walk the dogs, what with Sid pulling 16+ hour days and being effectively welded to his laptop. It was the first time the dogs had been out with only one of us and, aside from the incident with the rotten rabbit's head that Frankie was particularly wanting to protect at all costs, it went really well and they were very manageable on the lead. Interesting that they stayed closer and were more attentive than when there are two of us out walking them.
Saturday was also extremely busy. Pheel had called a couple of days before to see if we wanted enough rubber matting to fit out all the stables at a very good price (yes please), which necessitated being round to his with the trailer for 8am to follow him to the place where we were to get the rubber, waiting while his boys loaded the trailer then driving back and unloading it into one of the stables. For anyone out there that has never unloaded a trailer full of heavy duty rubber matting, I can tell you that it is bloody heavy, and hard work. One trailer load done, I went back to collect the second load, return and repeat in between a visit from Tessa; chiropractor, adviser on all things vegetable garden, dogs and all round good egg. I can advise that unloading two trailer loads of heavy duty rubber matting is even harder work than doing one. And it had to be done, because I gave Xacra her prostaglandin injection on Wednesday evening and we had to take her to the vets that afternoon, so we needed the trailer.
So with no pause for anything so civilsed as a break, we loaded up Xacra and Golfinho and undertook the hour's drive to the vets to drop her off. Again we took her straight to the stocks to be scanned (follicle not developed enough) while Golfinho took the opportunity to investigate everything, knock things over and generally cause a ruckus. Our little herd were reunited with much nickering in the paddock while we did the necessary paperwork, then loaded up Alfama and Gualter for the journey home. Very pleased that Gualter loaded much better this time, and even deigned to put foot to ramp, if only for milliseconds before clattering into the trailer at speed. Another hour back home, by which point it was about 4:30. Ordinarily we'd have had a lighter evening of it but had invited our excellent neighbours round for a barbie and had all the preps to do, so there followed a period frenetic activity to get it all done, and we were just back on top of things as they arrived (phew). Had a really lovely evening which was much more civilised than our last get together, when we all got completely battered on the last of our sloe gin and spent the evening dancing wildly on their lawn.
All of that was the good stuff, but the bad news is that we lost one of the goats, Gerry, on Saturday night :(
Not sure what it was but the goat sanctuary have also been losing quite a number of their MoD goats of late - she was always the least vigorous of the three, as well as the oldest. Poor old girl :(
Needless to say, losing an animal that is classed as livestock requires different handling than losing a pet, so we had to call round to find a licensed carrier to dispose of her body because it's against the law to bury it. We had to wrap her in a tarp and drag the body to a collection point for the lorry, which is coming tomorrow. Very sad business, but at least she had a nice life with us for a few months as part of T's posse of goatie girlies. RIP Gerry :(
On arrival at the vets we took them straight into the barn for Alfama to be scanned again. This was particularly intersting to me because although the girls have been scanned many times this season, it was the first time that I've been on hand to see what a ripe-ish follicle looks like. We turned them out in what might now be considered their usual paddock, and drove back home. Most of the rest of the afternoon was taken up transferring wood to the new wood pile and taking the dogs for a long walk. By the time I'd finished I was too battered to ride - I really should learn to ride first then do other jobs afterwards, because thinking "oh I'll just..." really Does Not Work. In the evening we had a chap round to discuss some land matters, at which point T decided to put on a show for him involving flat gallops, caprioles, pings, star jumps and flirting displays to the mares, and I'm really not sure whether it was T or I who were the most surprised that the chap took No Notice Whatosver. Funny.
We had a very busy day on Friday, cleaning up the garden, putting the roof on the wood pile (involving standing on tip toe on top of a ladder, banging nails into onduline sheets at precarious angles) etc etc. Knickers went off to do some stuff with a friend at 2ish so all that remained for me was to work both boys, hump more wood and walk the dogs, what with Sid pulling 16+ hour days and being effectively welded to his laptop. It was the first time the dogs had been out with only one of us and, aside from the incident with the rotten rabbit's head that Frankie was particularly wanting to protect at all costs, it went really well and they were very manageable on the lead. Interesting that they stayed closer and were more attentive than when there are two of us out walking them.
Saturday was also extremely busy. Pheel had called a couple of days before to see if we wanted enough rubber matting to fit out all the stables at a very good price (yes please), which necessitated being round to his with the trailer for 8am to follow him to the place where we were to get the rubber, waiting while his boys loaded the trailer then driving back and unloading it into one of the stables. For anyone out there that has never unloaded a trailer full of heavy duty rubber matting, I can tell you that it is bloody heavy, and hard work. One trailer load done, I went back to collect the second load, return and repeat in between a visit from Tessa; chiropractor, adviser on all things vegetable garden, dogs and all round good egg. I can advise that unloading two trailer loads of heavy duty rubber matting is even harder work than doing one. And it had to be done, because I gave Xacra her prostaglandin injection on Wednesday evening and we had to take her to the vets that afternoon, so we needed the trailer.
So with no pause for anything so civilsed as a break, we loaded up Xacra and Golfinho and undertook the hour's drive to the vets to drop her off. Again we took her straight to the stocks to be scanned (follicle not developed enough) while Golfinho took the opportunity to investigate everything, knock things over and generally cause a ruckus. Our little herd were reunited with much nickering in the paddock while we did the necessary paperwork, then loaded up Alfama and Gualter for the journey home. Very pleased that Gualter loaded much better this time, and even deigned to put foot to ramp, if only for milliseconds before clattering into the trailer at speed. Another hour back home, by which point it was about 4:30. Ordinarily we'd have had a lighter evening of it but had invited our excellent neighbours round for a barbie and had all the preps to do, so there followed a period frenetic activity to get it all done, and we were just back on top of things as they arrived (phew). Had a really lovely evening which was much more civilised than our last get together, when we all got completely battered on the last of our sloe gin and spent the evening dancing wildly on their lawn.
All of that was the good stuff, but the bad news is that we lost one of the goats, Gerry, on Saturday night :(
Not sure what it was but the goat sanctuary have also been losing quite a number of their MoD goats of late - she was always the least vigorous of the three, as well as the oldest. Poor old girl :(
Needless to say, losing an animal that is classed as livestock requires different handling than losing a pet, so we had to call round to find a licensed carrier to dispose of her body because it's against the law to bury it. We had to wrap her in a tarp and drag the body to a collection point for the lorry, which is coming tomorrow. Very sad business, but at least she had a nice life with us for a few months as part of T's posse of goatie girlies. RIP Gerry :(
Thursday, 28 July 2011
Registration
So today the boys had their papers done for passport registration and to become fully paid up members of Club Lusitano. Well most of them anyway - reading through the breed society paperwork last night I realised that we hadn't received a covering certificate from the breeder which includes the third (!) outline diagram to be completed by vitnery. Why there always has to be something noticed only at the last gasp defeats me, but there it is. Certificates en route from stud sec and we'll get those done asap.
We decided to put Golfinho's headcollar on this morning before I left for work, so he wouldn't associate it with being jabbed with a large and scary needle (microchip) and a smaller one (tetanus). And just as well. Gualter of course was the uber colt, standing for his doings like the fabulous little big man that he is, while little Nom was having none of it! Knickers had to call in reinforcements (Sid) and the two of them kept him still long enough for the jabs to be done and his whorls and markings appropriately inspected. Vitnery reckons he will stay that colour, which I am delighted about. He is such a little swine :)
Meanwhile the girls have been scanned, and we've just missed Xacra's season. Even surrounded by stallions, she shows no signs of heat whatsoever *sigh* so we are faced with the choicce of a PG injection to bring her forward again, with the increased risk of a haemorrhagic follicle, or wait and be really quite late in the season. Argh. Alfama is due in about 10 days, and we have two doses of frozen semen from each of the boys on standby at the vet clinic.
Yesterday Sid had occasion to call in the AA to take his poorly car to a specialist garage, and it turned out that said AA man was a keen breeder himself and dedicated stallion owner, so rather randomly the two of them spent the best part of an hour exchanging notes and ideas about stallion handling, breeding and general horse management. Who'd have thought?
Also yesterday we took delivery of some 15 tonnes of rubber, which will be used in the all weather turnout areas for everyone. The next step is for young Pheel to come round with his giant tool and spread it all over the hardcore.
In other news, Frankie is settling in very well; we took them out for an hour tonight and played hide & seek in the long grass. I thoroughly recommend this as a de-stressing exercise after a busy day, but caution fellow hay fever sufferers that it's probably better to take your antihistamines beforehand than afterwards, when your eyes have puffed up and and you nose is simultaneously blocked and running.
Looking forward to the weekend and the Bento clinic - report to follow. I stopped in at Frogpool on the way home tonight and availed myself of a new black saddle cloth with gold piping - s'nice.
We decided to put Golfinho's headcollar on this morning before I left for work, so he wouldn't associate it with being jabbed with a large and scary needle (microchip) and a smaller one (tetanus). And just as well. Gualter of course was the uber colt, standing for his doings like the fabulous little big man that he is, while little Nom was having none of it! Knickers had to call in reinforcements (Sid) and the two of them kept him still long enough for the jabs to be done and his whorls and markings appropriately inspected. Vitnery reckons he will stay that colour, which I am delighted about. He is such a little swine :)
Meanwhile the girls have been scanned, and we've just missed Xacra's season. Even surrounded by stallions, she shows no signs of heat whatsoever *sigh* so we are faced with the choicce of a PG injection to bring her forward again, with the increased risk of a haemorrhagic follicle, or wait and be really quite late in the season. Argh. Alfama is due in about 10 days, and we have two doses of frozen semen from each of the boys on standby at the vet clinic.
Yesterday Sid had occasion to call in the AA to take his poorly car to a specialist garage, and it turned out that said AA man was a keen breeder himself and dedicated stallion owner, so rather randomly the two of them spent the best part of an hour exchanging notes and ideas about stallion handling, breeding and general horse management. Who'd have thought?
Also yesterday we took delivery of some 15 tonnes of rubber, which will be used in the all weather turnout areas for everyone. The next step is for young Pheel to come round with his giant tool and spread it all over the hardcore.
In other news, Frankie is settling in very well; we took them out for an hour tonight and played hide & seek in the long grass. I thoroughly recommend this as a de-stressing exercise after a busy day, but caution fellow hay fever sufferers that it's probably better to take your antihistamines beforehand than afterwards, when your eyes have puffed up and and you nose is simultaneously blocked and running.
Looking forward to the weekend and the Bento clinic - report to follow. I stopped in at Frogpool on the way home tonight and availed myself of a new black saddle cloth with gold piping - s'nice.
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
Back in the saddle, and other matters
On Saturday I decided that it was time to ride T for the first time since his injury, which has kept him out of action for almost six months now. The trot work in hand is building up nicely and there's less evidence of the very slight unlevelness we saw after he came back from stud, so I'm feeling confident that we can continue building him up slowly. Besides, if he keeps himself sound out in the field 24/7 throwing shapes for the mares the I'm pretty sure he is doing ok. Spent about 10-15 minutes riding, looking for stretching and relaxing over the back and a few steps of SI. Well, I’m not sure there was much in the way of relaxation; plenty of energy bubbling up though contained, he did feel like an unexploded bomb with a tendency to curl up in front, but then it was his first ride in ages. Amazing to be back in the saddle again and I am looking forward to developing the relaxation levels with him as the work progresses. We've also recommenced the Rachen-Schoenich (or however you spell it) straightening work which is helping him hugely, as I found during my second ride tonight which found him much more relaxed and apt to stretch to the contact. He's enjoying being back in work and is back to his calm and mannered self with a liitle routine to intersperse the Wild Man of Kent lifestyle he's been living.
I might add at this juncture that updating one's blog with laptop held in crook of an arm while typing one-handed on account of the presence of a cat on one's lap can best be described as "sub-optimal". Isn't it Slim.
In other news, the farrier came on Friday and the girls were done in the field. Gualter stood for his second ever trim completely at liberty - at the tender age of 3.5 months old. How cool is that? Golfinho had his first look over from Robin and lifted his legs very politely (again at liberty) but hasn't had a trim yet. The next thing for them will be the vet visit to do the forms, take the DNA sample and microchip them so that they can get their passports. As for the girls, Alfama was an old hand but Xacra had the wind up her tail and was very antsy about her back feet – I suspected this might happen as she relies on me very heavily mentally and I kind of knew she doesn’t yet have that relationship with Knickers that allows her to lean on her quite so much in times of need. She oscillates a bit with her back feet and recently we had a couple of moments of concern as little Nom would come and nibble my head while I was doing a hind foot so I ended up fending him off while doing her feet and it got a bit much for her, shaking her fragile confidence and meaning that we've had to regroup a bit. We’ve taken to leaving the three of them in the corral while we do her feet in the field, which is fine until little Nom starts throwing shapes along the fence and winding everyone up :) How he fits all that personality in such a little body defeats me.
I might add at this juncture that updating one's blog with laptop held in crook of an arm while typing one-handed on account of the presence of a cat on one's lap can best be described as "sub-optimal". Isn't it Slim.
In other news, the farrier came on Friday and the girls were done in the field. Gualter stood for his second ever trim completely at liberty - at the tender age of 3.5 months old. How cool is that? Golfinho had his first look over from Robin and lifted his legs very politely (again at liberty) but hasn't had a trim yet. The next thing for them will be the vet visit to do the forms, take the DNA sample and microchip them so that they can get their passports. As for the girls, Alfama was an old hand but Xacra had the wind up her tail and was very antsy about her back feet – I suspected this might happen as she relies on me very heavily mentally and I kind of knew she doesn’t yet have that relationship with Knickers that allows her to lean on her quite so much in times of need. She oscillates a bit with her back feet and recently we had a couple of moments of concern as little Nom would come and nibble my head while I was doing a hind foot so I ended up fending him off while doing her feet and it got a bit much for her, shaking her fragile confidence and meaning that we've had to regroup a bit. We’ve taken to leaving the three of them in the corral while we do her feet in the field, which is fine until little Nom starts throwing shapes along the fence and winding everyone up :) How he fits all that personality in such a little body defeats me.
On Friday evening I had a lesson with Mandy, first time since being back from Portugal. We did a fair bit of lateral work based around the milling exercise, moving into shoulder in while keeping the collect afforded by the milling, and working that into a stretch, looking for mouthing of the bit, which we got on the left rein but not the right. We then worked on transitions within the trot, using school shapes to assist but always looking to keep the throughness. We finished off with some canter work to maintain straightness and impulsion.
On Saturday it was Noodle's turn to have a lesson on Q, so I rode him first to make sure he was settled and ready. He was a bit skittish and spooky, deciding that the floating heads of Mandy and Knickers outside the school were quite scary so we had a good canter to settle him and from then on he was fine. Noodle spent the first ten minutes off the lunge doing some basic turning work, with Q very politely ignoring little Nom who was taking an interest along the fence. What a good lad. Noodle has a lot of trust in Q as well which helps her confidence hugely and she knows she doesn’t have to worry about him. I think this is really remarkable in all sorts of ways and is a testament both to that marvellous Luso temperament and Noodle's level of comfort in working with him. Afterwards back on the lunge to work on her rising trot and I must say she has come on in leaps and bounds, so very pleased with how she did.
On Sunday we found ourselves going to look at a dog that needed a new home, against my better judgement. I know I know, but I blame Sid and Noodle. I’ve decided not to let the two of them out on their own again as this is the second time this has happened. The story was that a couple were looking for a home for their Husky x Collie (!) 5 month old puppy as their young son is highly allergic to him. Of course, I knew that if we went we’d end up coming back with him, but I made sure I agreed with the owners that we would take him on a trial basis to make sure he was ok with the cats. Anyway we brought him home and he (Frankie) was an instant hit with Dora and Willow particularly, and they have formed a happy trio in no time flat. His first introduction to cats was a pasting from Binky and Poppy, neither of whom take any prisoners, so he has been very polite – even lying on the kitchen floor while Slim and Binky took up residence in his bed :) Since then he has settled in very well and the signs appear to be promising. So now we have:
6 horses
3 dogs
5 cats
3 goats
10 chickens
That's 27 creatures.
Friday, 15 July 2011
Go Noodle
We had a really nice session with the boys this evening: Q first, who is a little plump sausage of Luso loveliness from enjoying the grazing far too much whilst Noodle and I were away. We both need to embark upon a fittening programme in time for our forthcoming Bento clinic, where I fully expect us both to boil our bananas off if we do not sharpen ourselves up a bit.
In any event we had a very good session and it is always the greatest of pleasures to sit on him again after riding other horses, however splendid or well trained they happen to be. Afterwards I gave Noodle a lunge lesson and she has made excellent progress over the last couple of weeks - rising trot is unrecognisable for one thing but more than that she had her first canters on Q! Really pleased with how it went for her, nice and balanced back to the trot again too, and of course Q was the consummate schoolmaster, expecting only adoration and kisses for his forbearance :)
Worked T again, who is looking much better and in very good shape - well covered and happy to be doing something. Well - I say that but when I went to fetch him he was in his stable and wandered off up the field when he saw the headcollar. I wandered off after him, he stopped and looked around, then trotted off into the next field before stopping to look again. Seeing me still in pursuit, he cantered off to the furthese point in his summer paddock to exchange pleasantries with Q, and waited for me to approach before cantering off again back to his winter paddock. Seeing me still in dogged pursuit, he clearly thought "oh alright then" and walked up to me to put his nose in the headcollar. It's the Vicar of Dibley "no, no, no, oh alright then".
Meanwhile the girls have been scanned and Alfama is not pregnant, so we are considering whether live cover mightn't be such a bad thing after all. We can fashion a teasing wall easily enough and use the picadeiro for covering, so we are currently considering our options.
In any event we had a very good session and it is always the greatest of pleasures to sit on him again after riding other horses, however splendid or well trained they happen to be. Afterwards I gave Noodle a lunge lesson and she has made excellent progress over the last couple of weeks - rising trot is unrecognisable for one thing but more than that she had her first canters on Q! Really pleased with how it went for her, nice and balanced back to the trot again too, and of course Q was the consummate schoolmaster, expecting only adoration and kisses for his forbearance :)
Worked T again, who is looking much better and in very good shape - well covered and happy to be doing something. Well - I say that but when I went to fetch him he was in his stable and wandered off up the field when he saw the headcollar. I wandered off after him, he stopped and looked around, then trotted off into the next field before stopping to look again. Seeing me still in pursuit, he cantered off to the furthese point in his summer paddock to exchange pleasantries with Q, and waited for me to approach before cantering off again back to his winter paddock. Seeing me still in dogged pursuit, he clearly thought "oh alright then" and walked up to me to put his nose in the headcollar. It's the Vicar of Dibley "no, no, no, oh alright then".
Meanwhile the girls have been scanned and Alfama is not pregnant, so we are considering whether live cover mightn't be such a bad thing after all. We can fashion a teasing wall easily enough and use the picadeiro for covering, so we are currently considering our options.
Portugal visit
We arrived on Wednesday eve to balmy weather: how wonderful to be back in the hallowed land after a three year hiatus. Drove to Sobral in our ridiculous little rental car, which required us to take a run up to each of the numerous hills & hope for the best, but even then still having to chuck ballast out of the windows in order to make it to the top. Had a great evening catching up with our dear friend Antonio.
Day 1
On Thursday we went to a tack shop in Porto Alto where I acquired a presentation bridle and whip, some spurs and a hat for Noodle. Quite restrained I thought. Had a late lunch at a little place which used produce from its own farm; dropped Antonio off and prepared for outing no. 2.
Next was a trip to Quinta da Ferraria, the other side of Santarem. We met up with Teresa, one of my Facebook buds and all round fabulous person, to go and look at a mare I'd had half an eye on for some time.
The quinta was awesome! Huge, very well presented, lovely place. The mare herself was extremely sweet and latched on to us straight away - arg. She is very well put together, good lines and moves really well, graded at 72 points though she has not had any babies yet. She is small at 14.3h but is ridden by children so very calm and giving temperament. If we bought her we'd have to have more land first. Anyway here she is:
The breeder has offered to put her in foal to a stallion called Zico, so we had a look at him too. He was a gorgeous silver at about 15.2h, very compact and well put together. We saw him in hand, at liberty and ridden. This is Zico:
So a lovely day, awash with sun, Lusos and bonhomie. Marvellous. As evening drew on we made our way back to the car park, frowning a little as I was quite sure the car wasn't where I had left it. Hmmm. Walked up and down a bit until forced to conclude that yes, the car was Definitely Not There. Difficult to relay the range of emotions that washed over us at this point, but probably best summarised by "oh fuck".
So. Car gone, what to do. Got hold of a number for the car park admin; "fala Ingles?" One quickly realises that the smidgen of Portuguese one relies upon for the basics of restaurant ordering and kindergarten-level pleasantries will really Not Do in this sort of situation. Car park people didn't have it. Called the rental company, got a nice lady called Silvia to ring around for me, who thinks it's very unlikely to have been nicked. It's about now that the realisation washes over me that this was now a PAYING CAR PARK and guess what, I hadn't noticed. I could blame it on all sorts of things but what it comes down to in the cold light of day is utter blondeness. Fuckwittage even. A monumental cock up, the price of which we were about to embark upon paying during the course of the next few hours.
Silvia calls back to inform me that the car has been towed, gives me the details and advises me to get a cab to the car pound to reclaim it. The good news is that it's not too far away and it's open til midnight. We spend a pleasant half hour trooping around to find a cab, and eventually flag one down near the stadium. Off we tootle to the area reported to contain the car pound; no pound to be found. Engage in animated conversation with a number of cab drivers and eventually alight upon one who knows where it is, and gives us directions. On arrival at said pound, I am asked to produce my documents which, luckily, I have on me. I suspect we would still be there if I hadn't. That's 120 Euro please. Resigned, I hand over my card. Sorry, we don't take that type of card, they said. Please try anyway, I said, tiptoeing by now around the brink of a yawning chasm of desperation. Needless to say, it didn't work. Natch. Find the nearest Multibanco, the nice lady advises. Where is that? I ask. In the zoo, she replies. Of course!
We troop back the way we came, into the zoo and track down the Multibanco. Back to the pound, at which stage a queue of fellow fuckwits/miscreants/blonde people has formed and we are obliged to wait while they are dealt with in a fashion which can only be described as glacial. Arg. Arg. Finally, our turn again, I hand over the wedge and eventually we are shown past the array of burly security men through the tall gate with spikes and barbed wire on it to our trusty steed. Well, I say we but Noodle is impelled to wait outside. Perhaps they were concerned that she might try to make off with another of their prized impounds, as though we are a pair of hardened car thieves and not just a brace of incompetent Johnsons.
Finally, the ordeal is over and we can worm our way out of Lisbon feeling, it must be said, battered and beleaguered by our three hour epic contrived entirely from our own stupidity, back to Sobral and the sanctity of Antonio and Joao's house, wondering all the while if a freak tsunami would thunder through the streets of Lisbon at any moment and wash us away, or whether a rogue asteroid would hurtle from the sky and bury itself in the roof of our car just to add the cherry on top of the pile of steaming doodoo. As it was none of this happened and we made it back, somewhat frayed but with the black humour reserved for these sorts of occasions fully restored.
Day 3
In the morning Noodle got a riding lesson with Antonio and Lusitano, which went well aside from a spot of panic at the canter. Not entirely surprising since it was her first one since she last rode as a kid and fell off on her first canter.
Another afternoon at the festival, only this time without incident. We eschew our planned feasting at the fabled Jockey club buffet in an effort to make up ground on the previous day's unforseen expenditure, and tuck into another bifana. And some cake. Spend the entire afternoon watching an array of classes and manage to arrive home again unmolested by any sort of disaster. Not a huge number of breeders present but the crowds were healthy and it was also gratifying to see that not everyone is intent on breeding Lusosauruses.
Day 4
Another lesson for Noodle on Lusitano, regrouping confidence and developing her balance at the trot. Lusitano was such a good boy and really looked after her. We decided to go to Obidos with Antonio and Joao instead of spending another day at the festival, to see a bit more of Portugal. Obidos is a very old town near Torres Vedras and the fact that it is the centre of Ginja production only mildly influenced our decision to go there. Ginja is an excellent liqueur traditionally served in chilled chocolate cups. We enjoyed mooching around the town and catching a couple of tunes from a band dressed in mediaeval clothes playing funky mediaeval music. I imagine the belly dancer represented Portugal's strong Moorish influence but in any case she was really good and it all hung together surprisingly well. We also found a boyfriend for Knickers.
Day 5
Morning: lessons for Noodle and I. I rode a large but quite sluggish Luso stallion called Astro and Noodle had a lunge lesson on a dun gelding, during which she gained top marks for really finding her balance in trot and making her first steps towards conquering her cantering fears. Go Noodle! We also met in the flesh the sires of our boys, Assirio and Galheteiro. We watched Assirio being worked and he was fabulous - hopefully I can post a video clip soon. Galheteiro was so sweet - an old boy at 23 but still strong and secure through his back and very nicely conformed, along more traditional lines.
We didn't have long afterwards for pleasantries as we were due to drive over to the Alentejo for a visit to the Coudelaria Monte de Tramagueira, near Teja. Let me tell you it's a long drive straight after a lesson and with no time for lunch or coffee, during which time I learnt that woman cannot survive on pasteis de natas alone. Still, it was all well worth it as we had THE most fabulous time meeting the utterly charming Filipe, owner of this magnificent 300+ ha farm and the delightful Angelique who works with Filipe and is doing some fantastic work there with horses. The yard and boxes were immaculate and all the horses had a constant supply of hay. Don Soberano is a truly spectacular stallion and I look forward to seeing how he develops in his career. We spent a wonderful couple of hours meeting all the horses, and I quite fell in love with a one year old Assirio daughter and a two year old colt who is exactly the stamp of horse that I like. Good job my pockets and wallet aren't as capacious as I'd like them to be. All of Filipe's horses are really friendly and well conformed, and of course schmoozing with Lusitanos is one of my all-time favourite pastimes, so we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. I realise I have used what might be considered an excessive number of superlatives to describe our afternoon, but it really was that good.
Day 6
All that remained for day 6 was to make our farewells and depart for the airport. We caused some consternation to the TAP staff when presenting the whip for travel, and ended up having to wrap it up in newspaper before they would allow it into oversized luggage, while the agent told us all about how he rides once a year and invariably ends up with a sore bum because he doesn't do it often enough. Grinning at both the shared experience of sore bums and the incongruity of the conversation in that particular setting, we went our separate ways and headed off into the bowels of the airport - where we waited, and waited, and waited, for 5 extra hours in fact. Yep, the plane was delayed "for operational reasons". So instead of getting home mid afternoon and looking forward to catching up with everyone at leisure, in fact we arrived home about 10pm, just over 12 hours after we left Sobral.
Day 1
On Thursday we went to a tack shop in Porto Alto where I acquired a presentation bridle and whip, some spurs and a hat for Noodle. Quite restrained I thought. Had a late lunch at a little place which used produce from its own farm; dropped Antonio off and prepared for outing no. 2.
Next was a trip to Quinta da Ferraria, the other side of Santarem. We met up with Teresa, one of my Facebook buds and all round fabulous person, to go and look at a mare I'd had half an eye on for some time.
The quinta was awesome! Huge, very well presented, lovely place. The mare herself was extremely sweet and latched on to us straight away - arg. She is very well put together, good lines and moves really well, graded at 72 points though she has not had any babies yet. She is small at 14.3h but is ridden by children so very calm and giving temperament. If we bought her we'd have to have more land first. Anyway here she is:
The breeder has offered to put her in foal to a stallion called Zico, so we had a look at him too. He was a gorgeous silver at about 15.2h, very compact and well put together. We saw him in hand, at liberty and ridden. This is Zico:
We also saw some daughters of Zico and the rest of Luis's mares, not to mention a drop dead gorgeous young stallion called Cofre - Tigre in a bullfighting body. Wowee.
Afterwards we spent a very pleasant hour chatting to Teresa, catching up on all things Luso and in the process finding a rider for T for the next breed show, so very excited about that. Thank you Teresa for a wonderful afternoon; it was a true pleasure to meet you.
Day 2
With much anticipation Noodle and I set off to Campo Grande for the festival on Friday. So nice to have the festival back at what many consider to be its true home and more to the point back in the place where it was when I first went back in 2000. Not to mention where we first met Q. Let it be said that a combination of circumstances caused us to arrive (a) later and (b) more turgid of bladder than planned, but that was soon forgotten as we met up with fellow Luso enthusiasts and enjoyed a beer, a bifana, coffee, cake and lots of Luso eye candy. I quickly lost count of the number of Spartacus sons and daughters on display. We nosed around the stalls and I availed myself of the opportunity to acquire a programme, a pair of chaps and a very nice portrait of Filipe Graciosa replicating a glorious passage.So a lovely day, awash with sun, Lusos and bonhomie. Marvellous. As evening drew on we made our way back to the car park, frowning a little as I was quite sure the car wasn't where I had left it. Hmmm. Walked up and down a bit until forced to conclude that yes, the car was Definitely Not There. Difficult to relay the range of emotions that washed over us at this point, but probably best summarised by "oh fuck".
So. Car gone, what to do. Got hold of a number for the car park admin; "fala Ingles?" One quickly realises that the smidgen of Portuguese one relies upon for the basics of restaurant ordering and kindergarten-level pleasantries will really Not Do in this sort of situation. Car park people didn't have it. Called the rental company, got a nice lady called Silvia to ring around for me, who thinks it's very unlikely to have been nicked. It's about now that the realisation washes over me that this was now a PAYING CAR PARK and guess what, I hadn't noticed. I could blame it on all sorts of things but what it comes down to in the cold light of day is utter blondeness. Fuckwittage even. A monumental cock up, the price of which we were about to embark upon paying during the course of the next few hours.
Silvia calls back to inform me that the car has been towed, gives me the details and advises me to get a cab to the car pound to reclaim it. The good news is that it's not too far away and it's open til midnight. We spend a pleasant half hour trooping around to find a cab, and eventually flag one down near the stadium. Off we tootle to the area reported to contain the car pound; no pound to be found. Engage in animated conversation with a number of cab drivers and eventually alight upon one who knows where it is, and gives us directions. On arrival at said pound, I am asked to produce my documents which, luckily, I have on me. I suspect we would still be there if I hadn't. That's 120 Euro please. Resigned, I hand over my card. Sorry, we don't take that type of card, they said. Please try anyway, I said, tiptoeing by now around the brink of a yawning chasm of desperation. Needless to say, it didn't work. Natch. Find the nearest Multibanco, the nice lady advises. Where is that? I ask. In the zoo, she replies. Of course!
We troop back the way we came, into the zoo and track down the Multibanco. Back to the pound, at which stage a queue of fellow fuckwits/miscreants/blonde people has formed and we are obliged to wait while they are dealt with in a fashion which can only be described as glacial. Arg. Arg. Finally, our turn again, I hand over the wedge and eventually we are shown past the array of burly security men through the tall gate with spikes and barbed wire on it to our trusty steed. Well, I say we but Noodle is impelled to wait outside. Perhaps they were concerned that she might try to make off with another of their prized impounds, as though we are a pair of hardened car thieves and not just a brace of incompetent Johnsons.
Finally, the ordeal is over and we can worm our way out of Lisbon feeling, it must be said, battered and beleaguered by our three hour epic contrived entirely from our own stupidity, back to Sobral and the sanctity of Antonio and Joao's house, wondering all the while if a freak tsunami would thunder through the streets of Lisbon at any moment and wash us away, or whether a rogue asteroid would hurtle from the sky and bury itself in the roof of our car just to add the cherry on top of the pile of steaming doodoo. As it was none of this happened and we made it back, somewhat frayed but with the black humour reserved for these sorts of occasions fully restored.
Day 3
In the morning Noodle got a riding lesson with Antonio and Lusitano, which went well aside from a spot of panic at the canter. Not entirely surprising since it was her first one since she last rode as a kid and fell off on her first canter.
Another afternoon at the festival, only this time without incident. We eschew our planned feasting at the fabled Jockey club buffet in an effort to make up ground on the previous day's unforseen expenditure, and tuck into another bifana. And some cake. Spend the entire afternoon watching an array of classes and manage to arrive home again unmolested by any sort of disaster. Not a huge number of breeders present but the crowds were healthy and it was also gratifying to see that not everyone is intent on breeding Lusosauruses.
Day 4
Another lesson for Noodle on Lusitano, regrouping confidence and developing her balance at the trot. Lusitano was such a good boy and really looked after her. We decided to go to Obidos with Antonio and Joao instead of spending another day at the festival, to see a bit more of Portugal. Obidos is a very old town near Torres Vedras and the fact that it is the centre of Ginja production only mildly influenced our decision to go there. Ginja is an excellent liqueur traditionally served in chilled chocolate cups. We enjoyed mooching around the town and catching a couple of tunes from a band dressed in mediaeval clothes playing funky mediaeval music. I imagine the belly dancer represented Portugal's strong Moorish influence but in any case she was really good and it all hung together surprisingly well. We also found a boyfriend for Knickers.
Day 5
Morning: lessons for Noodle and I. I rode a large but quite sluggish Luso stallion called Astro and Noodle had a lunge lesson on a dun gelding, during which she gained top marks for really finding her balance in trot and making her first steps towards conquering her cantering fears. Go Noodle! We also met in the flesh the sires of our boys, Assirio and Galheteiro. We watched Assirio being worked and he was fabulous - hopefully I can post a video clip soon. Galheteiro was so sweet - an old boy at 23 but still strong and secure through his back and very nicely conformed, along more traditional lines.
We didn't have long afterwards for pleasantries as we were due to drive over to the Alentejo for a visit to the Coudelaria Monte de Tramagueira, near Teja. Let me tell you it's a long drive straight after a lesson and with no time for lunch or coffee, during which time I learnt that woman cannot survive on pasteis de natas alone. Still, it was all well worth it as we had THE most fabulous time meeting the utterly charming Filipe, owner of this magnificent 300+ ha farm and the delightful Angelique who works with Filipe and is doing some fantastic work there with horses. The yard and boxes were immaculate and all the horses had a constant supply of hay. Don Soberano is a truly spectacular stallion and I look forward to seeing how he develops in his career. We spent a wonderful couple of hours meeting all the horses, and I quite fell in love with a one year old Assirio daughter and a two year old colt who is exactly the stamp of horse that I like. Good job my pockets and wallet aren't as capacious as I'd like them to be. All of Filipe's horses are really friendly and well conformed, and of course schmoozing with Lusitanos is one of my all-time favourite pastimes, so we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. I realise I have used what might be considered an excessive number of superlatives to describe our afternoon, but it really was that good.
Day 6
All that remained for day 6 was to make our farewells and depart for the airport. We caused some consternation to the TAP staff when presenting the whip for travel, and ended up having to wrap it up in newspaper before they would allow it into oversized luggage, while the agent told us all about how he rides once a year and invariably ends up with a sore bum because he doesn't do it often enough. Grinning at both the shared experience of sore bums and the incongruity of the conversation in that particular setting, we went our separate ways and headed off into the bowels of the airport - where we waited, and waited, and waited, for 5 extra hours in fact. Yep, the plane was delayed "for operational reasons". So instead of getting home mid afternoon and looking forward to catching up with everyone at leisure, in fact we arrived home about 10pm, just over 12 hours after we left Sobral.
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