Now then,

Just finished lunch & have retreated to the cottage to catch up on Blog. Kids are at each other’s throats, Michelle is trying to marshal them into tidying up their rooms, Eric is cutting plasterboard, endeavouring to finish off the kitchen & aiming for a pre-Christmas completion.

That week went quickly didn’t it ? I won’t tell you about each individual day, just the highs & lows as I remember them.

I found this week extremely hard-going. Work has, true to Millie’s word, stepped up a gear. We are on the move constantly from 0630 to 1630 with no more than about an hour per horse. It is a confusing whirl of leading horses in & out, the walking machine, rugs, grooming, picking out feet & protecting yourself from injury. I am hard-pressed at the end of a day to remember which horses I have had contact with. On Tuesday & Wednesday evenings, I went to bed too tired to eat dinner, let alone Blog or e-mail. On Thursday, the pooter was sulking & wouldn’t let me log on. Honest.

The colts are becoming more feisty & dangerous as we try to instil some manners. Yesterday I fed 9 colts in their individual paddocks (they are too dangerous to put in paddocks together now) I was charged by 7 out of 9 of them & received 2 electric shocks from damp gate latches. The idea whilst feeding them is to check for injuries, lumps, grazes, swellings & the like. Not easy when all you can see are the undersides of their feet as they charge, buck & bronc all around you.

When charged by a colt, (or any horse) you are told to stand your ground, wave your arms & if all else fails scream loudly. The last bit’s easy. The idea is that you call their bluff & they bottle out before you do. On Friday, I found myself wondering what exactly they would do to you if your bluff were called. Not a cheery thought.

The low point of the week concerned the lovely mare I told you about who was overdue, ‘Sounds Like Fun’. She finally foaled on Sunday night, thankfully when I was not night-duty foal-watch. The foal had not developed properly & was stillborn. It appeared that the foals head had been crushed against the mare’s pelvis meaning that the front of it’s head had not formed & was missing. The mare took the foaling very hard but luckily, Belinda was night-duty foal-watch. Belinda is immensely compassionate & knowledgeable & the mare could not have been in better hands. Belinda was very upset after the night-duty & said the mare laid with her head on the foal’s flanks all night, trying to keep it’s little body warm.

When we arrived at work on Monday morning, the mare was in a paddock with her dead foal. The mare is left with the foal until she makes the decision to walk away from it. The idea behind this is two-fold. Firstly, the mare must give up on the foal & comprehend it’s death, otherwise she will be left feeling broody if the foal is removed too soon. The second reason is that she was producing copious amounts of milk. Brent contacted the other local studs to let them know that if they lost a mare during a foaling we had one who may be a suitable foster mother.

Towards the end of the day on Monday, I was asked to assist Dean in moving Mum & foal to another, more secluded paddock. Whilst I was leading her she kept nuzzling the body & calling to it. I had to take special care to make sure she was able to remain close to the foal, otherwise she became very distraught.

We made her comfortable in the paddock next to Murray’s & left her alone with the foal. The next evening I was foal-watch & Millie instructed me to milk out the mare at 3 hourly intervals. If this is not done, the milk can harden & the mare is at risk of mastitis.

I made my way to the paddock feeling sad at the thought of the job but thinking I would be ok. When I got there it was a sorry sight that greeted me. The mare had not moved from the spot where her head-collar had been removed. The only grass she had grazed was that immediately next to the foal & there were blossom petals on her back, indicating that she had not moved all day.

She was standing with her head drooping, lower lip resting on the little prone body & occasionally she would nip gently at the foals legs, encouraging it to stand. She snorted & blew over it regularly to clear the insects, which were gathering in numbers.

I approached her very quietly, thinking she may be protective & angry but she was very placid & didn’t even flinch when I began to milk her. It must have been a relief to get rid of the milk because she did not move a muscle, even when I leant my head on her flank, as you would with an old dairy cow.

I cried all the time I milked her & just thinking about it brings a lump to my throat again. I stayed with her for quite some time, thinking she may like the company but she was utterly oblivious to my presence & never once diverted her attention from the inert form in the grass.

I thought I had cried myself out but when I got home at nine that evening, Michelle asked how my day had been & I was off all over again. She didn’t complain about the snot I blew all over her shoulder & provided me with a bowl of strawberries & cream. What a woman.

On Friday, I heard that the foal had finally been taken away from the mare. She still hadn’t relinquished it after 6 days. Unfortunately, no other foal has been found for her. She has now been put in with some other mares for company & has been standing guard over a block of wood in the paddock.

The other end of the scale concerns a tractor. What else ?

I have been driving the old red one for some time, whilst casting covetous glances at the huge blue beastie, which Murray uses most days. I have tractor competition in the form of Clare, a pretty Irish girl. She understands my fixation & we compete to get to the tractor 1st. Luckily for me, she backed the tractor into an antique telephone in the barn the other day so when Millie wanted someone to hitch up the trailer on Friday, he gave me a shout.

Dean was using the blue tractor with a bucket attachment to scoop wood-shavings into my trailer when I decided that it was a good time for him to teach me how to use it.

So, I dismounted the red one & approached him on the blue one.

Me : Can I have a go ?
Dean : On this ??????
Me : Yes please.
Dean : Do you know how to drive one of these ?
Me : I will do, in 5 minutes, when you have shown me.
Dean : Do you know how much one of these costs ?
Me : Yeah yeah yeah, I won’t do any damage, move over.

And so he did. It was fantastic, I loaded 2 scoops of shavings into the trailer & it made the red tractor feel like a go-kart. The controls were incredibly light & responsive. I would love to be let loose in it for a couple of hours in a paddock to have a proper play.

Whilst we were engrossed, Millie approached from behind on a quad, sounding the horn & looking absolutely furious.

‘Just what exactly do you think you are doing’ he shouted.
I explained that it made sense for me to learn to drive the large tractor so that if we wanted to fill loose boxes in future, we didn’t have to twiddle our thumbs until a bloke appeared to drive the tractor.
‘Fair enough, but I want those boxes filled by lunchtime’

It was only 1020 when he said this.

The best reaction was from Murray who was busy shearing lambs. The 1st time he noticed who was driving his baby, he clutched his eyes with his hands, peering from between his fingers in mock agony. As he advanced he was saying ‘Do you know how much one of those costs ?’ I told him Dean had already given me that lecture & promised him I would be careful. He hung around watching for a while then gave me a couple of handling tips. He is a very skilled plant operator & I intend to twist his arm for a couple of longer, supervised lessons when the time is right. I suspect chocolate will change hands, as he is very partial to it.

I am beginning to develop a crush, not on Murray, who is old enough to be my Dad, but on his boots. They are battle-scarred, black things, which have absolutely no give & lace-up just under the knee. They even have the steel toe-caps on the outside. They are a seriously kick-ass pair of boots & when he wore them in conjunction with his chaps the other day the effect was somewhat startling to say the least. Damn, those rams look hot, Stan !

Whilst driving the tractor, I heard a strangled cry of ‘Unfair’ from behind me. Looking around, I saw Clare, hands on hips, stamping her foot & berating Dean for offering me lessons. Dean protested that he hadn’t offered, that I had insisted & he was scared to say no. I helped my shouting abuse from the cab along the lines of ‘I’m in the big tractor, na na na na na’

Clare cooked dinner for everyone at the Stud last night to welcome a couple of new members of staff. Kylie joined us 2 weeks ago, she is Australian & very nice & loves uplifting trance (result, someone to dance with when we go out). Agnes arrived on Friday from Hungary & I suspect she really is going to have her work cut out for her. She doesn’t smoke or drink (& has come to work on a stud ?) & her English, such as it is, is very broken & halting. English is my 1st language & I have struggled to understand Kiwis so I hate to think how hard she will find it.

There is also the danger aspect. Even with very clear instructions, it is very easy for things to go wrong & injuries to occur. I wonder how she will cope in a fraught situation with warnings being shouted at her, an everyday occurrence.

Since I have returned from being sick the following have happened :

Natasha was leading a colt to a paddock to turn him out. As she opened the gate, he reared & kicked her face with a front foot. She looked like a hamster storing food for the next few days.

Trina was leading a colt, which whipped his head around sharply to the left. He caught her cheekbone with his nose & she saw stars for some time afterwards.

Clare was leading a colt, which spooked behind me. He exploded, all 4 feet leaving the ground simultaneously, landing some 15 feet further forward. His front foot caught her between the shoulder blades & winded her. Luckily, she escaped without serious injury.

The most dramatic incident happened in the stall next to me, & concerned Ellie. I was trying to put a rug on a filly & Ellie was grooming the filly adjacent to us. Her filly was playing up & jerking backwards violently on the rubber bungee, which they are tied up with. The bungees are used rather than rope as they have a degree of ‘give’ in them. One end of the bungee is clipped to some baler twine on the bottom of the head collar, the other end to thick wire mesh, which separates all the loose boxes. The filly yanked the bungee so violently that the complete wire partition gave way between the 2 boxes.

I looked around to see what the commotion was, just in time to see a piece of metal, at least 10’ square, heading at speed towards Ellie’s head. I still don’t know how she knew what was happening but she ducked just in time for it to whistle over her head. I don’t even want to imagine how badly she would have been hurt had it connected.

If this sounds unlikely in the space of 2 weeks, then I promise, it’s all true. These young thoroughbreds have huge muscles & very small brains & their response to most things is flight, no matter how contained the space they find themselves in. It makes for a heady combination. You will notice that I have not sustained an injury yet. I use the word yet advisedly. It feels like a ‘when’, not an ‘if’.

We are going out this evening, to watch the AB’s-v-Australia & then onto the Albert in Cambridge. It should be a good turn-out & we are all looking forward to a bit of relaxation after a full-on week. I have to take it relatively easy as I am on tomorrow for a 6.30 start, will probably have a drink & stay over at the Stud.

I am assured it’s a DJ, rather than a band, at The Albert tonight & that he plays ‘dance-music’. We shall see. On that theme, bought myself ‘Justified’ today & jolly good it is too.

The battery is getting low on the laptop so I will sign off for now. Just a few ‘hello’s’

Thanks to everyone who cajoled/threatened/enquired about me & lack of Blog. Hope todays large portion makes up for it & means you are never again reduced to reading ‘The Job’ with your morning tea, Weeny.

Quichey’s do sounded a scream & I would have loved to see Simon ‘you cotton candy ass’ Stephenson especially. Very amused to hear you appealed to the lizard. It’s the hair. Surprised to hear about BA, it’s always the quiet ones isn’t it ? Was there any boogeying & if so, did Cocky do an Elvis ? The e-mail you sent about a mobile fone (?) was blocked by the job’s firewall as a possible hoax. Was it important ?

Stan. Thank you soooo much for the firestarter foty. The pose is absolutely spot on. It brought back memories of laughing til we retched in the Control Room swapping arsonists anecdotes. Eric, Michelle & I were all looking at the OBA pics when that one cropped up, causing much hilarity. Eric says ‘thank you’ for the picture of no. 40 & he & Michelle reminisced about her visiting him there.

It was good to put faces to names & avatars. Some fotos were a complete surprise. Others were not. It looks like you had a complete ball & I look forward to meeting them all. Sorry to hear you are bound for Victoria on 15 Dec. Take it they are still honouring your a/l & that Cedar Lodge is on your Xmas itinerary ?

Bill. Police speed boat ? Work ? Slacker.
Look forward to the photos.

Ang. It can’t be many sleeps now til you head over the Atlantic again.
I hope you have a lovely time & take full advantage of the hospitality.

The shops here are gearing up for Xmas. Today the Warehouse was full of brats tugging at weary parents sleeves saying ‘Can I have … ?’ I have to say, I have never felt less Christmassy. I don’t know if it will change as December arrives, I suspect not. My Christmas will be very odd without my yearly neddy visit to Olympia. Think I’ll go read my Horse & Hound to cheer myself up.

Speaking of ‘cheering up’ , yes, I agree with my e-mailer who suggested Ben Cohen is the sexiest thing in rugby at the moment. The image of eating vodka jellies from his chest made me laugh out loud. Thank you.

My prediction for tonight’s match is that the All Blacks will win by a clear 10 points. As for tomorrow ? I get butterflies just thinking about it. Dean has bet me a KFC lunch that France will beat England.

Mum is out of hospital & at home recuperating after surgery. Thanks to everyone who has enquired, she is due to stay off for 6 weeks now. She is not supposed to do any housework, wonder how long that will last ?
Get well soon Mum, give the moggies a love from me.

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