Friday, November 21, 2003

Not a good day at work.

The lovely girl Clare, I told you about, who vies with me for tractor duty is in hospital this evening with a broken nose, broken cheekbone & broken eye socket. She has some unspecified internal injuries too. She was double-barrelled in the face today at work,
which means she was kicked by both hind feet of a horse simultaneously.

Unsurprisingly, it was the colts playing up again.

We led a group of them out & Clare's colt was playing up. When she hit him, he bolted,
towing her behind him. He approached Millie, also leading a horse, at a frighteningly
quick pace. Millie had to stop him or he would have hit the rest of us like nine-pins. I was next, behind Millie & don't mind admitting that if Millie hadn't stopped the colt I was wondering how exactly I was supposed to. As the colt stopped, he was too close to Millie's horse, who lashed out with both hind feet. Poor Clare copped it full in the face.

At first I thought the kick has just missed, as Clare remained standing. A second later, she collapsed to the floor, on her back, like the proverbial sack of spuds. Her panicked horse ran over the top of her treading on her stomach. It was when she didn't flinch or even move as this happened that I realised she was unconscious.

The next few minutes were horrible, no-one could help her until we had put our horses
in paddocks & there was lots of shouting & panic. I caught the loose horse & took him back to his box, praying he would be calm & behave as I had misplaced my stock stick in the melee. An ambulance was called & I volunteered to meet it at the end of the driveway to show it exactly where to go.

I felt very tearful watching Clare & was glad to have something useful to do. She is
a very popular girl & it was dreadful to see her usually very pretty face, crushed & bleeding. She was also convulsing & choking on blood. At this point, everyone who was with her, feared the worst. Millie was completely ashen & felt terrible as it was his horse which kicked her. In truth he did a very good job of stopping the runaway horse & couldn't have prevented his horse kicking out.

The ambulance took 25 minutes to arrive as it came from Te Awamutu rather than Cambridge. A jockey had taken a nasty fall at the nearby racetrack hence the
Cambridge ambulance being occupied. As they arrived, I noted with dismay that they
were St. John's Ambulance, imagining them to be the equivalent of the same
organisation in the UK. I don't criticise anyone who gives their time freely but thought
that Clare needed more specialist help. It turns out that over here, there is no other
ambualnce service & the St.Johns are all highly-trained paramedics.

Clare was taken to Waikato hospital, accompanied by Trina & the rest of us tried to get
on with our jobs. Those of us who had seen what happened were very upset &
Kylie & I confessed to one another that it had made us consider quitting the job.

What is upsetting is that Clare did nothing wrong & by some fluke, sustained a very
nasty injury. She was just in the wrong place, which gets you thinking.

Her brother works over here in Auckland & arrived at the hospital very soon afterwards.
Trina & Natasha have gone to see her this evening & the latest is that she is now
conscious & talking but cannot remember what happened. She is also incredibly
gutsy, she asked Trina if her teeth were ok & when Trina asked why, she replied
that she had spent '8 years wearing poxy braces' Trina thinks that's the morphine
doing it's job.

The rest of the day passed in a bit of a blur & I was very glad to have Michelle to
offload to when I came home. As with most shocking images, I keep replaying it over
in my mind. I hope I can ditch the image as horses are supposed to be able to pick
up on what you are feeling.

We have been wondering for some time what the serious injury would be when it came,
as we are all picking up injuries on a daily basis now.

The Tanners have gone to Papamoa this evening to celebrate their Kiwi anniversary.
On their first evening here, 2 years ago, they went to Papamoa, had fish & chips
on the beach & witnessed the most lovely sunset. As they left, Alice was weeping,
having run into a cupboard after instigating an indoor race between her & Harriette.
Eric & Harriette were in the bad books for laughing at Alice's ineptitude & Michelle
remarked drily as they left ...

'See you later Carol, we are off for a happy family evening together'

I used the $10 which I won from Dean in our rugby bet to buy myself a decidedly
average KFC for dinner. One evening with the family away & I am on the junk food. Shameful.

I helped Dean lead 2 racehorses to distant paddocks this afternoon. As we turned
them out he looked at one of them & said, 'I always think of you when I see this
mare' Of course I had to ask why & he replied that her name was 'Dominatrix'

Which makes me wonder, which of you has been telling tales ?

Is it you Weeny ? 'Ride 'em cowboy!'

(Apologies Mum & Ma & Pa Smith)


I had a 'bit of a fire incident' this afternoon.

Kyllie & I took the tractor, hooked it up to the trailer & did the 'rubbish run'
This consists of collecting all the rubbish from everyones houses & the office &
taking it to the dump. The office rubbish must be ignited to destroy any confidential
reports which rival studs may like to get their sticky mitts on.

No problems there then, have done this numerous times, office rubbish smoulders
away uneventfully. Apart from today.

When it was very gusty.

And when something in one of the clinical waste bins (kerosene, I suspect)
went

'WHOOF'

Kylie & I watched in silence for a minute or so & just as I turned to her to express
my doubts about the intensity of the blaze she said the same to me.
The dump paddock contains 4 colts & you can call me paranoid but I had
horrible visions of hundreds of charred neddy skelingtons & Brent being interviewed
in The Waikato Times ...


"Obviously, I never would have employed her had I known she was the
Cedar Lodge Conflagrationist"

I thought the best course of action was to get Millie to look at the fire to decide
if it would burn safely within the pit & so told Kylie to hold on tight in the trailer as
we were heading back to get him a lot quicker than we had arrived.

The raceways are very pitted & even at a sedate 15kph, the trailer bucks & weaves
like a dyspeptic donkey. I don't know how quicky I went back as it wasn't safe to look
down at the dials but poor old Kylie had to stand in the trailer & hang on for dear life
looking like some latter-day Ben Hur.

I thought I had slowed sufficiently to negotiate the last corner but when the
trailer started to overtake us, I realised I hadn't. We jack-knifed, 1st left, then right
whilst I frantically steered into both skids. On either side of me were expensive
10' high fences & gates. I still don't know how I missed them.

As we slid to a halt, it occurred to me that however frightening it had been for
me, it must have been much more so for my poor passenger. I slowly looked around,
expecting to find her flung in a paddock. 'That was scary wasn't it ?' I shouted at her
in what I hoped sounded like a 'I was always in control, kind of voice'
She just nodded mutely, a rictus grin plastered on her face.

After the thrill was over & Millie had confirmed that the fire would indeed, burn safely,
we both giggled, weak-kneed at our escape.

For the rest of the afternoon, whenever she saw me, she would shout

'That was scary wasn't it ?' & set us both of giggling again.

I really like Kylie, she is a good person & I hope to get to know her better.

Shame she's an Aussie & we have to beat them on Saturday.

I am working tomorrow, so I am off for a hot bath as the old back is giving me gip today. Frequent applications of Deep Heat have helped but what I really need is a day off.

I have some foties, will share them soon, probably tomorrow when I get a bit
more down-time. For the time being, tara for now.

Cx



Thursday, November 20, 2003

Wednesday, November 19, 2003

Good Evening,

This will be a quickie, fading fast & need my bed.

Got away with minor injuries today, right foot stood on twice, once by a colt who
got a shock from an electric fence, shot up in the air & landed on said foot.
Secondly by another colt who thought he would run over me in his haste to leave
his box.

We had some real fun & games yesterday. As we were leading a group of colts
from their boxes to turn them out into paddocks, the one behind me took a shine to my colt. He charged across the yard & promptly tried to mount the colt I was leading.

His nearside forefoot missed my head by a couple of inches as he climbed on my colt.
Understandably, my boy was a bit perturbed & because he couldn't go forwards, due to
there being another colt directly in front of him, he leapt sideways.

He performed the most athletic jump over the low hedge to our left, landing, with yours truly still hanging on, in the middle of an immaculately manicured raised turf oval. Once there we proceeded to do what felt like an entire dressage test, he pirouetting & cavorting, whilst I hung grimly to his lead telling him to 'stop churning up the turf'.

Brent's office looks out onto this oval & I was dreading what he would say when he saw his furrowed lawn.

I eventually persuaded him down although needless to say the 4" step down was much more terrifying than leaping the hedge to get there in the 1st place.

With that, we were finally on our way down to the paddocks. Worse was to come though, when the colt which Trina was leading bolted. I won't name him here for reasons which will become clear. He has been an accident looking for somewhere to happen, as he only has 2 gears, reverse & gallop.

Trina gamely hung on for what seemed like ages but he was a shade more determined & made good his escape. She was dragged face down for a few strides, taking all the skin off her palms but still had the presence of mind to close a gate after him to stop him returning flat out into all the colts we were still holding.

Trying to hold ours & persuade them that they did not want to join their friend on a flat-out tour of the farm was no mean feat either. As the colt returned towards Trina, having found a closed gate at the end of his gallop, she gamely stood her ground & tried to flag him down to slow him before he reached the gate she had just closed.

He ran straight through her & cannoned into the gate. He saw it at the last moment & raised his forelegs in an effort to clear it. Luckily the gate was at least 10' high & the chain held under the onslaught. He tore his chest open on the gate & has been confined to his box since. He looks very sorry for himself & Trina was mortified that she couldn't hold him. It was a horrifying scene to witness & best not dwelt upon, otherwise you would end up too scared to move them anywhere. Fortunately, though shaken & bruised, Trina escaped more serious injury.

It was whilst I was hanging off a filly's hind-leg & yelling at her for trying to kick me as I picked her feet out that I became aware Brent was standing at the stable door watching me. I don't know if you are familiar with the management-phrase a sh1t-sandwich ?
The idea is that, if you are telling someone off, you give them the bread 1st, the poo in the middle, & finish off with more bread to take the nasty taste away.

ie. 'Good Morning, you are a very valued employee, we are going to further your career by sending you to answer 999 calls at New Scotland Yard & did I mention how valued you are ?' You get the picture ?

Brent must be on a money-saving kick cos I only got one slice of bread today.

He told me that he had heard I had been leading very well over the last few days.

He burst my bubble immediately afterwards by telling me that I had failed an observation test. (I had failed to notice a cut on a filly's knee today, as I brought her in)

We have been monitored over the last couple of days to assess whether we lead well enough to lead the colts at the sales in Auckland in January. I can't say I would be devastated at missing a trip to Auckland (apart from meeting up with the token chick) but I wouldn't like to miss out on the experience of going to the sales. The report that came back from the meeting was that they felt I had responded well to a couple of big scares from the colts & wasn't afraid to dig my heels in & chastise the colts.

I accepted the praise & didn't tell them it's just sheer stubbornness (sp?) on my part. I am pleased to be going to the sales now (always assuming they don't squash me before January)

Today was so hot that, for the 1st time, I sought shade during our afternoon tea-break.Usually, I will sit in the sun & soak up the heat but today, after midday, it just became hotter & hotter.

Bronwen, the Aussie girl, who seemed to have settled in well on her 1st day, has turned out to be very strange after all. She has spent the last 2 days crying al the time, & is
quite frankly, a pain in the ass. She has decided she doesn't like any of us, quite a feat, when there are now 8 of us to choose from & I suspect she may well leave either tomorrow, or at the end of the week.

She keeps saying she is home-sick too. She is a 3 hour flight from home & complaining to me, who is a 24 hour flight away from home. The urge to tell her to 'toughen-up' is overwhelming. I admit to being miserable & homesick when I first arrived in NZ, but the people I worked for & with would never have known it.

Agnes is fairing better. After a couple of nasty shocks, she is appreciating that these youngsters are a different proposition to the older horses she has worked with in Hungary. She seems to have adopted a more cautious attitude & has improved.

Hitman, your e-mail about Agnes had me wiping my eyes. Sorry to spoil your image but she is early 20's, 5'10", very slim, long legs, long brown hair, large brown eyes. Honest.

If I have neglected farm news at Cedar Lodge lately then it's because I haven't been around to see what's been going on.

The sheep were shorn last weekend & much improved they look too, apart from Lilla, who, with her horns & long tail, looks more goat than sheep now divested of her fleece. The chichens have received a boost to their community, in the form of 8 new ones which Eric has rescued from a lady who was being complained about by her neighbours.

The freezer is being cleared at the moment to receive Petunia or no. 47, Eric hasn't decided yet. My vote goes for Petunia. Which reminds me, I saw the last of Murrays ewes being loaded onto the truck to go to the works today. I was supposed to be loading a wheelbarrow with haylage but found my attention drawn to 2 ewes next to each other, regarding me with calm, interested expressions. In my mind flashed an image of them hanging upside down, awaiting their fate. I had an urge to pull the handle, releasing them & urging them to 'Flee & be free'

2 things stopped me. One was the fact that hundreds of other little woolly-heads would have been liberated at the same time. The second is that Murray's steel toe caps (the object of my recent crush) would have been planted firmly up my butt.

My appointment with the sandman beckons & so I will bid you all goodnight.

Ma & Pa Smith, yes, you will be pleased to know, your Blog comments were
received loud & clear, will forward the e-mail address you requested
in the next couple of days.

Hen, It could have been worse, it could have been a pink skirt & then you would be
asking 'What's wraaaang with you ?'

Cocky, Didn't get the e-mail from work. If you saved it, are you able to re-send (especially
if it's the goss from Quichey's do)


ttfn,

Annie Oakley x






Monday, November 17, 2003

Part II

I have just read 16 e-mails. How lovely, fankuverymucheveryone.

Yesterday was a very disjointed day which passed in a bit of a blur.

Bed at 0300 after going out Sat night.
Up at 0600
Worked until 0900
Went home, bed between 1100 & 1200
Back to work for foal-watch from 1300 - 1500
Finished off at work & home again for 1700.
Got into bed for 2nd nap at 1800, planned to get up at 1900
to enjoy build-up for Engtland - France game.

Awoken at 2155, having slept thru my alarm, by Michelle, with cup of
tea asking if I was planning on watching the game ?

So, I got my 8 hours in 3 separate stints & felt very odd for it,
a bit quick-changeover Stan. It was all worth while though as Saturday
was a very good night.

I showed the young uns how to shake a tail-feather much to their amusement.
They call me 'Mum' & the 'appropriate adult' & were amazed that I knew not
only the actions but also all the words to House of Pain's 'Jump around'

Classic.

The DJ was very good, much better than the MoR band they usually
have on a Saturday night. For a change, there was room on the dance-floor
too, thanks to the fact that half of the pub left in disgust after the All-Blacks
were beaten by the Wallabies.

If you have ever wondered what real silence is like, you only have to be
in a Kiwi pub following a defeat by Australia. It was quite unnerving.

Needless to say, I have wound Dean up no end & am looking forward to my
KFC lunch tomorrow. Wish I had taken him up on his $100 bet now.

2 more new girls have started at work in the last few days.

Agnes who is Hungarian (I think I mentioned her the other day ?)
& Bronwen, another Aussie. After showing Agnes the ropes today, I have
a feeling she may not stay. She asked me today how well insured I was
working with the colts ?

Bronwen has fitted in immediately, cheerful & talkative, she appears very at ease.

Today was a very enjoyable day at work, just the one injury, poor Clare was
jumped on by a colt on the walker. He raked his hoof down the back of her right
leg, peeling the skin off from knee to ankle. She has a very impressive bruise
there already. Millie is away today & tomorrow & Ledge (Andrew) has been
in charge. The atmosphere has been much more pleasant & Ledge makes
a refreshing change from Millie. He is easy to understand, relaxed & even
says 'please' & 'thank-you'. He must not have read the management handbook.

Off to bed now as I have a few bits to get ready before tomorrow,

If I haven't replied to your e-mail tonight (or recently) then please
bear (bare- Di ?) with me. Unlikely to be any Blog tomorrow night
as I am foal-watch. Only 9 mares left the foal now, the last is due on
December 2nd.

Until Wednesday, ttfn,

Cx




Good evening,

Reproduced for your enjoyment here, is an e-mail from my Mum who is
obviously feeling well enough to be sarky (wonder where I get it from)
To clarify, I have mailed Mum some old Blogs to read whilst she
is off sick.

Helllllllp,
To all blog readers, please help me find my daughter, was informed by
someone who is using the name of Carol Briggs that she is residing in
New Zealand, but have been reading e-mails from a person who has
actually watched a H. P. video. No can't be, all those years of nurturing
gone in one instance. It just goes to show you let your children out of
your sight and in a flash all critical discernment vanishes and they are
transformed into dorks. Never mind searching for Aragorn (him who will
be king) suggest we look for Briggsy.

Also, rumoured that she admitted to liking a child or two - thinks
that's a mistake, was Tom's flashing eyes\teeth that made her think the
kiddie was appealing (have to be honest here, even I thought that kid was
cute) but will deny this e-mail if that's repeated.

Come on now you kiwis, where has the real Briggsy gone?

Saturday, November 15, 2003

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.

Cx



Thursday, November 13, 2003



Tuesday, November 11, 2003

Monday, November 10, 2003





Saturday, November 08, 2003

Foal watch

As you know, unless you txd me today & wondered why I wasn’t answering,
last night was my 1st night-duty foal-watch. I am up now (at 1.44pm) cos I was hungry. Thought I would Blog after my cereal, then go back to bed to see if I could sleep some more.

By now Stan & Turbo will be either ;

i) Comatose
ii) Lost/in Police custody in Dover
iii) Dancing (very well, more of that later) on a crowded dance-floor somewhere in Dover.


It’s Stan’s Old Boys Reunion this weekend & after raving about how good it is every year, Turbo has decided to join him his year. Can you believe Stan went to a military school ? And a good one by all accounts, The Duke of York Royal Military School. (Not that I would know a good one from a bad one) Eric went to the same school, which is how he & Stan know each other.

The weekend is 3 days of reminiscing, New Romantics (they were there during the 80’s) & of course there is the opportunity to enjoy a glass or 2 of babycham. I understand there is a parade on Sunday, which will coincide with Remembrance Day. Stan has been stressing about whether the music he has done will go down well. I suspect by now he won’t care any more.

Last night I arrived for foal-watch well prepared. I had several books with me, my Christmas cards to write, my oilskins to waterproof & even a tin of sardines for the little black cat who frequently visits the girls on nights. Added to which I had brought tea & milk, I thought I had catered for every possibility.

Except the 4 hour power-cut from 0100 – 0500.

I was reading when everything failed & I admit to being slightly unnerved. I couldn’t even see the horses I was supposed to be checking on. The full moon had been obscured by cloud since just after midnight so that didn’t help much.

It took some time to get my night-vision & the peacock calling in the distance added to the air of Edgar Allen Poe. No-one has seen the peacock yet but it has been living on the farm somewhere for the last week.

The scariest time was walking through the yards to get to the toilet. I had to walk past rows of empty stables & needless to say, my imagination was working overtime. I was leaning into one of the boxes, saying hello to a horse who has to be confined due to an injury when a possum scrabbled over the metal roof. I don’t know which of us was more petrified & when I spoke to him telling him ‘It’s just a possum silly’ it was as much for my benefit as his.

I had 8 mares to watch, one of whom, ‘Sounds Like Fun’ was due on the 5/10. I also had 3 mares with foals, 2 of which had to be got on their feet every 3 hours to ensure they were feeding. The 3rd foal was supposed to be bottle-fed as the mare was reportedly not making enough milk. As it transpired, the foal fed several times, which was just as well as I had no means of heating the replacement milk.

The hut, which had been cosy enough when the heater was working, rapidly chilled & come 0300, I was wearing my usual clothing, plus a layer of lightweight waterproofs, my brown woolly cap & my full-length waxed coat. Surprisingly, I had a call from Brent at 0320, he had got up & noticed there had been a power cut. He asked if I was ok & told me to keep an especially close eye on the mares now they were not floodlit.

I didn’t need telling, I dreaded missing a foaling, especially ‘Sounds Like Fun’ as she is so overdue, each time I went to find her in the dark, I expected to find her, plus one.

2 mares who usually graze together were separated last night as one is closer to foaling than the other. They are ‘D’accord’ & ‘Zydeco’& they spent the whole night standing either side of the gate softly whickering to each other. Very sad. Each time I checked one, I would get her scent on my hand then let the other one smell it, to reassure them.

It was lovely to see them reunited when dawn broke, you couldn’t have got a cigarette paper between them. When one foals, I am sure the other won’t be far behind just because they hate to be separated.

Quick break for spicy apple muffin, courtesy of Harriette.

Checking the mares with new-borns was the best part of the shift yesterday. Each time I went into the barn to wake the foals, the mares would call to them softly, to reassure them. I still haven’t grown used to being able to step into a deep straw bed, wake a slumbering ickley & stand with it whilst it feeds. Occasionally my hand may just stray to it’s ears to give it a love !

The ‘Nothing Less’ foal who was born with the very bent hind legs in the week, is progressing well & his hind legs get a little straighter every day.
The most lively foal I have seen so far was born to ‘Wee Devil’ yesterday. A gorgeous bay colt, with a white face, he is incredibly well coordinated & was hooning around the paddock, closely followed by Mum who seemed to be enjoying the run as much as he was. His cantering is as steady as a grown horse & his balance was lovely to see. Watching him kick up his heels, charge to the other end of the paddock, then come to a snorting stop, whilst waiting for Mum, it was not difficult to imagine him, in 2 years time complete with jockey & racing to earn his keep.

The cat, having dispensed with the sardines in double-quick time, settled down to spend the entire night in the foaling hut. She asked to be let out at 0530 & returned in short order to consume breakfast, in the shape of a young starling. Thankfully, she at least killed it before devouring it. She was most put out that I would not let her dine in the foaling hut & dragged it underneath it to eat in less salubrious surroundings.

Foties to follow when Q returns from his binge/reunion.

Mum finally has e-mail (although not internet) so I can send her daily Blogs to read at her lee-shur. That’s the idea, apparently she spent an hour trying to read a test mail I sent her yesterday, thanks to some problems with AOL.

I think that’s about it & I am going to head back to the sack. Michelle is torturing the pressure cooker, preparing an Indian feast for this evening.
They are entertaining their dairy-farming friends Robyn & Richard who are coming over to watch the rugby tonight. I am disappointed I won’t get to sit down & watch the NZ-S.Afr game, but at least I am not missing
The Eng-Wal game tomorrow night.

Quick hello to Hadleigh who was assaulted whilst trying to arrest some scum-bag yesterday. Hope you are ok Hadders ? You will be amused to know that my praise of your dancing has led to some wounded claims from other chaps that they too are ‘good dancers’. I have tried to explain to them that it is no good claiming that themselves. What counts is when another person says they are. My explanations have fallen on deaf ears. Hope you are ok & that help arrived quickly ? Let me know if you need any large Pacific Islanders to sort anything out for you, nobody messes with D-Team.

Wish me luck (& electricity) for tonight,

Come on the All-Blacks,

Cx


Friday, November 07, 2003

Thursday, November 06, 2003

Good Evening,

First things first.

Apologies for Strop-Blog yesterday.

The world hated me. I hated it.

I bought chocolate on the way home.

All is well today. Say no more.

As soon as I got home this evening, I soaked my poor peeties in a bucket of
scalding hot water & Dettol. We have covered a huge amount of miles today, walking
neddies back & forwards. If my back holds up I will be very fit come January.

Yesterday, we introduced the colts to the automatic horse-walker & today it was the
fillies turn. You've probably seen these things ? Large, circular, revolving arenas which exercise horses automatically. The one at Trelawney takes 8 horses at once.

It goes without saying, the horses are not keen to walk into this scary, steel
contraption & we were asked to accompany them into the walker to keep them calm.
Nobody wanted to imagine what would happen if they did not. There is no way to
escape the walker until you have completed a full revolution & reached the gate
you entered at.

Apart from the odd hissy fit, either entering or exiting, all the horses accepted it
admirably. It seems as long as they can see their mates, they are happy to do
what all the others do. I was asked to lead a large 10 yr old ex-racehorse called
'Trans-Siberian'. He is an old hand (hoof ?) at the walker & it gives the youngsters
confidence to see him waltzing on & off it.

Clare had a colt get away from her today, she has been fined the usual 6-pack.
Fines are also now being dished out for anyone seen entering a box without a
muck-fork & bucket in their hands at all times. I am interested to see how fines
will be enforced if anyone refuses to pay. That's the Tyke in me.

Today, I told Millie I had a dr's appointment at 10am on Monday. I asked him should I come in after my appointment or .... ? I left the 'or' hanging in the air, expecting him
to say the decent thing. Wrong. I was asked to come in at 06.30 as usual & then leave
for my appointment at 9 as Monday was going to be a very busy day.

He used that moment to pull everyone together to give us a pep talk, explaining that
things got serious as of Monday & that it was no more 'holiday camp'.

With 10-14 hours days & handling aminals who want nothing more than to trample
our puny bodies into the blood-soaked dust, I want my money back if this is a holiday
camp. And I speak as someone who has known real hardship. As kids, we were taken to Butlins, Bognor Regis on holiday. Weather warm but windy ...

Quick pause whilst I log off whilst Michelle rings home ...

(No Stan, she is in Wellington on a jolly, I mean, seminar)

At the end of the working day today, I found time to have an illicit cuddle with my
favourite filly, Fiddle-dee-Dee. She is such a sweetheart & always behaves impeccably
for me. We find out soon which yearlings we have to prepare for the sale in January. I am hoping, naturally, to get her. I am also hoping, equally as fervently, not to get a colt called Miss Paris. For the last 2 days whenever I enter his box for any reason he charges
me & tries to chew my face. Not my idea of fun.

The girls were on good form this evening. I was explaining to Alice about 'short man syndrome' & why Napoleon was punchy. I finished off by saying '& that's why
short men are punchy' 'Or jockeys ?' she added.

Harriette is doing a project on Joan of Arc & had to draw a picture of her being
burnt at the stake. 'Why is she smiling whilst being burnt alive ?' Alice
enquired. Sure enough, there is Joan, as portrayed by Harriette, beaming broadly
as the flames lick at her heels.

Her next picture depicts Joan leading her men into battle. Unfortunately, Harriette's chain-mail makes Joan look like she went into battle wearing a fishnet body-stocking.
It's an interesting concept though.

But, I will leave you with Harriette's best question to date. She is incredibly bright
& grasps difficult concepts with ease. She can also ask incredibly dim questions
like 'Where is the Melbourne Cup run ?'

I have tomorrow off as I am working nights so will relish a lie-in. A few bits & pieces
to do in town & a couple of hours of kip in the afternoon before work.

Turning in for now as I can't keep my eyes open.

Feet still hurt, even though I am sitting. Ow though.

Ma & Pa Smith. Thanks for the feedback to ease my rant.
Didn't get an e-mail about Bill Bryson, but do remember you
telling me that Matamata golf course was very hilly ?
The shorts are now better-travelled than some people !

Tony. Thanks for the explanation. I know the programme & can actually
see the resemblance. Shame they took down your sticker.
No sense of humour, some people. Soco sounds best bet.

Chef. Can't begin to compete with your globe-trotting antics but will
reply as soon as I am less zorsted. Your jet-lag must have been
something else. Glad you saw a game even if it was 2 also-rans.
Well done for 'liaison'. 10/10

Jeffwee's Mum Still owe you one, haven't forgotten.

Q - Garlic bread ????? Connect 4 ????? Love the shirt, especially in that pose.

For the person who e-mailed me today asking how to add comments ?

Just click on the words 'Q4A feedback for this entry' which appear in reverse video
at the end of each post, fill in the gaps & off you go. Easy, cheezy-peas.
I know it's probably obvious, but no comments from MPS terminals please.
Don't get yourselves in bother.

Night for now,

Cx

Wednesday, November 05, 2003

Yes, I am back at work.

I am also getting b***er all feedback cept from Stan & Ella (& she doesn't even know me-buck up you Poms)

Despite the fact that you dont deserve a Blog entry I do want to tell someone of my
derring-do yesterday. Before that, quick synopsis of Monday. Flippin' awful.
Painfully long day, very sore back, crap jobs being dished out to the raspberry.
Torrential rain.

So far, so predictable.

Millie & Brent haven't deigned to ask even how I am & as for 'restricted duties'
'You're avin a Steffi'
Brent has planned absolutely zilch & it's down to me to say what I can/cannot manage.

As I expected, I am doing night-duty foal-watch on Friday & Saturday. Although it's long hours (11 hour shifts) it should be easier than handling the yearlings & my back would certainly appreciate the rest. When I got in from work on Monday night I ran a hot bath & lay soaking in it for over an hour.

Last night I was just too tired to Blog after doing a 15 hour day.

Yesterday I helped with 2 foalings, they couldn't have been more different.

I was asked to watch a mare called 'Nothing Less' who was showing all the signs of foaling very shortly. The signs we are taught to look for range from the fairly obvious, large udder, to the not so obvious, a waxy secretion over the teat.

Any change in behaviour should also be noted, especially pacing or laying down. If the mare is laying propped up on her sternum & grazing, then no problem. If she is laying prone, that could be the start of contractions. Laboured breathing & an increase in skin temperature are also signs the foal may be on it's way.

The most obvious one, the mare's water breaking, can easily be overlooked unless you are watching the mare as it happens.

Yesterday morning, it was pretty copybook. I was watching 'Nothing Less' as her waters broke so I put a headcollar on her, informed Brent over the p/r that she was starting & led her out of the paddock she was in & some 5 minutes away to the foaling paddock.

The mares are always foaled away from their companions, partly so that we have quick access to the foaling hut & the emergency kit & also so that the mare is not stressed by having other mares near her new-born foal.

Within 10 minutes of leading her into the foaling paddock she had produced a healthy, if very wobbly colt. His poor hind legs were so bent, they looked like speech marks.

At the end of the day, as I finished foal-watch, I was in for a shock.

I had been watching 4 mares all evening, from 3.30 to 8pm. All of them were grazing quietly with none showing any signs of wanting rid of their cargo. I finished my last check at 7.30pm & headed to the foaling hut to hand-over to Belinda, the night duty lady.

The hand-over consists of a chat about which mares are doing what & I said something like she was in for a quiet night as they were all relaxed & grazing. At 7.40 I headed out to move them from the large day-paddock to the small night-paddock. Our checks are designated at 20 minute intervals, the idea being that it is impossible to miss a foaling.

As I arrived on the bike in the paddock, I quickly scanned the mares before moving them. One-ok, two-ok, three-ok, four .... where was four ?
I counted again to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me ... no 4 ?
I then tore around the paddock on the bike thinking that she must have escaped.
I found her over the brow of a hill, prone & with a foal's legs out up to it's knees.
She was straining heavily.

I almost did what has come to be known as 'the dance of the night of the fire.'

I knew that I had to get the headcollar on, get her up, move her about 400 metres & phone for help. I knew all this, I just didn't have enough hands. And a dodgy back.
I put the headcollar on first, reasoning that I could speak on the phone whilst walking
her up. Luckily, she was an absolute honey about co-operating & struggled to her
feet.

I dialled Trina's number as she was on call & said very calmly ...

'Katerine's foaling' & then because that didn't really convey the picture
'...and it's half way out !'

As I led the mare into the paddock I was very happy to see Trina, Natasha & Kirsty all legging it towards us carrying all the foaling kit. The poor mare was walking with the foal protruding the whole way & I am sure she was even more relieved than I, when I slipped the headcollar off & she sank to the ground & produced the foal in 5 minutes flat. A very healthy, very stroppy filly.

What was so worrying was that, had I left it til the proper time to check, ie another 10 minutes, I would have missed the whole thing & risked losing the foal. It's the sort of thing I would beat myself up over.

I must disappear for now as Eric is serving up, swan would you believe ?

It's not everyday fare & I arrived home to find Eric & Michelle rummaging through their cookery books for a recipe. Duck in raspberry sauce (is that a dig at me ?) was the closest they could find.

Early night tonight as I am bushed.

Thanks for the package Q, shorts handed to Eric, hope preparations for OBA are stress-free ? Please don't worry about the music, as long as it's loud & there's alcohol you cannot go wrong. Will you be playing The Little River Band ?

Ma & Pa Smith. Eric said you were asking if I had received your e-mails ?
I think I have replied to the ones I have had from you, so if there have
been any more, then no. A lot of messages have been going astray
to 'Incredimail' so that may be the problem.

The screams emanating from the bathroom indicate one of two things.

Either there is a banshee with their finger trapped in a bandsaw

or

Michelle is twisting Alice's earring.

Hard to tell the difference. Alice doesn't do fortitude.

Catch you later,

Cx


Tuesday, November 04, 2003

Monday, November 03, 2003

Sunday, November 02, 2003

Good Morning,

I have retired to the cottage for a little peace & quiet after a particularly fraught breakfast time. The kids seemed to be having a competition to see who could eat in the most annoying fashion. There was no clear winner. Conversation was restricted to a series of instructions about how to eat properly, each one met with ‘but Mu-um’ or ‘but Da-ad’ As ever, my admiration for parents tolerance tells me that my childless state was the right choice for me.

I have only been up 2 hours & I feel exhausted. I have a lot of questions to ask my Mum, foremost being, as a kid, did I disagree with every single thing she asked me to do ? I can’t imagine I did, not because I was an angel but because it was so much more ‘seen & not heard’ mentality when I was growing up. Not that I disagree with that, in fact I would take it further, I propose children should raise their hand for permission to speak. If they speak out of turn, they should be zapped with one of those ‘anti-bark’ dog-collars.

Let me clarify, in case that sounds a tad harsh. Obviously, you would give the child fair warning, tell them they were wearing a collar & only give them a short zap. I think zapping them for no reason, just to keep them on their toes, would constitute cruelty.

Eric seems amenable to giving it a go but I think Michelle has reservations.

I want to tell you about last night & I’m not making it up honest.

The Wild West night was held at the Hinuera Rugby Club, which had been decked out in a western theme. We met at the Tanner’s neighbours, the Edgars, Ian & Clare. Ian is an ex-professional polo player who now drives heavy machinery. What more could you ask for ? To be single. There were about 12 of us there & we all pitched into the minibus, which Clare had arranged for us at about 8.15pm.

The costumes at the venue ranged from the predictable, spurs, sixguns & stetsons to the more unusual. One man had come dressed as Lily Savage for reasons best known to himself. The band, ‘Dead Goat’, were best described as enthusiastic amateurs. The only compliment I can pay them is that their songs were recognisable. There was the usual d-I-v-o-r-c-e & dead dog fodder & I don’t know if I was dismayed or pleased to hear they sneaked an ELO number in there too. I had a couple of dances & resisted the urge to head-bang to ‘Blanket on the ground’. Wonder if they knew any Linkin Park ?



Only one person made the effort at the Lily Savage lookee-likee competition.


The highlight of the evening came in the form of ‘Flick’s fantastic crabs’. Not, as Stan suggested, one man’s tour of NZ with his pubic pals, but crab racing. For the uninitiated, I will elaborate. The crabs (freshly caught to ensure no prior training) were released from under a bucket into a ring about 10’ in diameter. The first crab to reach the side of the ring was declared the winner. Each crab had been bid for in an auction & in true Kiwi fashion, each name was either a rugby term, abuse or a local road name.

Hence there were the ‘Taotaoroa Rd tighta**es’
the ‘Pond Rd Poofters’ & so on.

After 3 rounds of ‘fastest crab’ there was ‘slowest crab’. For this one, I confidently backed the crab which I was sure was comatose in the last 2 rounds. Need I tell you that the crab picked this moment to explode towards the perimeter in a burst of sideways movement, the speed of which would have shamed an All-Black winger ? We could have been there all night with the other crabs, but fortunately, Lily Savage leapt into the ring & some boot-stomping/flamenco dancing on her part got the slackers moving uncertainly. One feisty crab did make the mistake of trying to stand up to this platinum Amazonian vision & I did fear for it’s safety as her knee-high, white, leatherette effect boots were missing it’s vaguely waving pincers by a matter of millimetres. Think of the tale that crab can tell it’s grandkids now.



No3 crab didn't want to play ring-o'-roses.


As the racing progressed, the volunteers who were responsible for rounding up the crabs at the end of each race got a little more blasé. I think there may have been a little heavy-handling too, judging by the fact that each time the crabs moved towards the outside of the ring, they left a number of ownerless legs in the centre.

I lost $20 & my requests for a urine test & a stewards enquiry fell on deaf ears. I learned a valuable lesson & next time I won’t be betting unless I see the crabs in the paddock first.

We got home at about 12.30 in time to see a valiant Ireland succumb to a lack-lustre Australia. I can only imagine how loudly Garth must have been shouting at the tv, Cocky. Needless to say, all Kiwis hate to see Australia winning at any sport, especially rugby. I was disappointed to hear Samoa were beaten by South Africa, we have the game to watch on video at some stage.

As for Andrew, who Clare wanted to set me up with ? To do the story justice, I have to rewind to the 1st rugby game I went to with the Tanners. On that occasion, we were joined by one of the Edgar’s friends. He got blind drunk & spent the evening swaying, blinking myopically like a startled bush-baby & clinging to passers-by. He said little or nothing & Eric couldn’t decide if it was shyness or the inability to speak, due to the alcohol.

When Clare opened the door yesterday evening, (you’re ahead of me here aren’t you ?) who should I see, standing in their dining room ? ‘Carol, I don’t believe you’ve met Andrew ? ’ trilled Clare gaily. Good manners prevented me from saying ‘I have, he was comatose at the rugby game’


Michelle valiantly did all the leg-work & informed me that he plays polo, wants a horse, has dogs & jogs on the beach near his home. He is also very bright & doing a degree in something to do with soil-science. It all sounds very promising doesn’t it ? Pity he wasn’t my type. Eric was very keen for me to hook up with him & I wondered why. Turns out he used to manage a timber yard & Eric needs timber to finish his kitchen. And they say romance is dead.

To describe his dancing I have to ask you to imagine the following.
Imagine a loose-limbed Thunderbird puppet, hinged only at the waist. Now, picture a man milking a cow whilst standing. Mix this with music that no-one else can hear & you’re just about there.

I know I sound harsh & I am sure I have entertained many an audience with my drunken forays onto the dance-floor. However, we women always have one thing over you chaps on the dancefloor. Irrespective of how much alcohol has been consumed, we still retain that mystical ingredient which seems to elude most men ; rhythm.

There are, I concede, a couple of men who not only get it, but are very good dancers, Hadleigh springs to mind. Hadleigh is always the first onto the dance-floor & the last to leave. He thinks nothing of dancing entirely alone & not in a ‘look-at-me’ fashion but because he loves dancing. Please chaps, watch Hadleigh & take note.

I knew yesterday was going to be a good day. The 1st 2 records I heard after the alarm went off at 05.30 were Nickelback ‘Someday’ & Linkin Park ‘Numb’. Your day can’t be bad when it starts like that.

My drive to work was quite spooky as I drove through swirling mist & the breaking dawn. In my absence the stud has blossomed & looks very beautiful. The pastures are knee-deep & studded with buttercups. The neddies have lost their woolly coats & are wearing glossy, fine pelts. It was lovely to be back amongst the gees again, I have missed them very much whilst I have been off.

In typical Kiwi fashion, my light duties consist of everything I did before, with the exception of mucking out the waist-deep straw in the mare & foal beds. I am being careful with my back though, thanks for all the warnings, it’s like having numerous Mums. If any job is too much for me, I won’t be too scared to say so – honest.
Clare, who had just arrived when I went off sick, has usurped me as tractor-driver, in my absence. Humph.

Poor Clare had a real baptism of fire whilst performing her 1st foal watch. The foal was still-born & had ruptured the mare whilst being pulled out. The mare haemorrhaged & was shot by Brent as she could not be saved. What made it even sadder was, of all the mares on the place, it was one of Brent’s mares.
Imagine how Clare must have felt helping at that one ? Makes me glad all my early foalings were straightforward & without drama.

Speaking of foalings, I may be working nights & doing permanent foal-watch for a while. One of the 2 permanent night-duty ladies has been asked to leave as she has missed 3 foalings. It is suspected she has been sleeping on duty. I wouldn’t mind doing nights for a maximum of, say a month as it would ease me into work with minimum strain on my back. I would also be helping work out, as they are struggling to get anyone to cover for Amanda & there is the bonus of working with the mares al the time.

I did foal-watch yesterday from 9am to 11am. It consisted of watching 7 gorgeous, bulging mares whilst sitting in the paddock on the quad-bike with them. I know I have talked about it before but I find being with the in-foal mares very enjoyable. They almost all have lovely natures & are so serene compared to the yearlings. I tend to spend about 20 minutes with each one, gently scratching & rubbing all the bits they cannot reach for themselves. I love seeing how relaxed they become. Their lower lips hang softly & they sigh blissfully to themselves as an itch they have been trying to reach is scratched. Occasionally, as yesterday, one mum will resent the others diverting your attention & will follow as you walk to the others, chasing them away to hog the cuddles.

A weird thing happened yesterday, I don’t know if you will believe me, but I’ll tell you anyway. On the 1st October I ordered a poster to be sent to my Mum in time for her birthday on the 5th. Like her daughter, she appreciates the male vision of perfection that is Aragorn, especially as depicted in the ‘Return of the King’ film poster. The poster was 48-hour delivery guaranteed. It never turned up & the company had blanked my numerous e-mails asking where it had got to. As I was doing foal-watch yesterday, I was reading a book, which I brought with me from the UK. Inside the book was a smaller copy of the poster, which I had put there in England, & promptly forgotten about. Mum texted me to say thank-you for the poster which had arrived, a month late. As I bent down to pick up my phone a piece of paper fluttered out of my book & I was looking at the same image she was texting me about. Well, I thought it was weird anyway.

The weather is unsettled today, wild gusting winds, interspersed with bright sunshine & heavy showers. Michelle is painting today, one of the kid’s rooms, I think. Eric is working on the kitchen cupboards & the kids are running riot playing outdoor games indoors. Hopefully the weather will brighten long enough for them to work off some energy in the pool. The wetsuits were dispensed with rapidly & Harriette especially, will happily play for hours despite blue limbs. They appear much hardier (or should that be foolhardy) than their Kiwi friends who will take a dip, splash around & get out shortly afterwards.

Back to short Blog-rations for you lot as of tomorrow, now that I’m back in the world of the workers, so make the most of this epic entry.

Thanks for the e-mail Col, didn’t get the numerous references to California til I saw the World Section of the Waikato Times. Mrs Colin must be gutted about the rugby. Enjoy your p & q, will reply soon.


So long pardners,

Cx








Saturday, November 01, 2003


Hi Carol,
I know this is a little late (considering it's Halloween right now!) but if you would still like pumpkin pics, here are the two that my friend Persephone and I carved. Mine is on the left. (Perseph loves happy faces!) ;)



Hope you have a great weekend!

-Ella :-)

Friday, October 31, 2003

DEAR ALL

I WAS SOOOOO PLEASED WITH MY LITTLE CREATION THAT I THOUGHT I WOULD SEND YOU
A PICTURE OF IT!



I SWEAR OF MY BABIES LIVES I DID IT!

CAROL - PLEASE ASK FELLOW BLOGGERS IF THERE IS ANYONE WHO IS ABLE TO BEAT MY
WONDERFUL CREATION - GAUNTLET LAID.

Jefweee herrett's mum

XXXXXXXXXX
Good afternoon,

An early Blog today (16:07) as I spoke to Brent earlier & told him I was able
to return to light duties. He duly asked me to come in half an hour earlier (06:30)
tomorrow (Saturday). Deep joy. Glad I took advantage of my recent lie-ins.

The scab-lifter has recommended I do 'restricted duties' for 10 days & has specified
no 'bending, stretching up or across' on my cert. Hmmm. Wonder what Brent has in
store for me. Cleaning, I shouldn't wonder. Think it could be a long 10 days.

A lovely last day of freedom today, found 2 more 'Horse & Hounds' & have read about
neddies all day. Due to being shipped out here, they are only July ones but beggars
& choosers & all that. I spent my usual hour perusing the 'Horses for Sale' pages.

I give myself a budget of £10k & revel in fantasy-land choosing my neddy.

I know that I don't have a budget of £10k & more to the point, if I did, I should be
looking at adverts with the words, 'Schoolmaster', 'Honest', 'Reliable'. Why is it
then that I find my eye drawn to the flashy foties with the words 'Exciting prospect',
'eye-catching' 'scopey', 'intensive care' ?

My ideal horse would be a black gelding of 10 or so, about 16hh, who had done everything & was very cuddly. He would have a bit of Irish Draught or Clydesdale in him & I would call him Black Beauty. Ok, the very last bit's not true but you get the picture.

Cocky has been in touch to say that CB is very poorly with ongoing waterworks problems & may have to go into neddy-hospital. CB is a gorgeous, strapping boy, owned by June & I spent a lot of time riding him before I came to NZ. I am very fond of him & know June will be very worried about him. June bred him herself & I can say without fear of contradiction that everyone at the yard loves this horse. He is practically the biggest thing there (almost 17hh) but probably the most gentle. He loves cuddles & relates better to people than he does to other horses.

So - what news from the farm in the last few days ?

Harriette & Alice took part in their school's cross-country yesterday. Each of them came last in their age-group last year. Harriette bettered that by one place this year & Alice proved that consistency is her watch-word. Having seen how slowly Alice moves to Michelle's requests, her performance is not surprising. My physio has recommended hill-work to strengthen my back so I have told the gilrs they can join me on my training runs.
I plan to run up the back paddock & walk down it as many times as possible
in one go. I am aiming to do this every other evening, so we can all laugh at each
other if I can drag them out to join me.

Eric warned me the cows will be in the back paddock soon. Petunia will probably take
pot-shots at us with her sniper's rifle.

I will take a picture of the gradient in the back paddock, I anticipate calf muscles
like Fatima Whitbread.

Bin went for his weight-watchers weigh-in & has lost a very creditable 0.8kg.

He said the worst bit was getting on the scales in front of the other dogs.

Only another 10 or so of those to go Bin !

He looks, if possible, more downcast than usual.

I have tried, many times, without success, to take a nice picture of Bin over the
last few days. With Stinca it's easy as he is so photogenic. Bin, however, always
comes across as looking 'shifty' & not without good reason.

If his tackle is not on view then he just manages to look guilty.

He shows a lot of white around his eyes & has a very pronounced shiny, lower lip.
Neither feature helps him to look trustworthy. Eric says he is a 'Maori Dog'.
I am sure I don't know what he means.

I have decided too, that he is Roy Hattersley. Not in a kind of 'reincarnation, bean-baggy '
way, you understand. It's just that when I see him sitting down, back legs splayed, paunch grazing the floor & an ingratiating, avuncular smile on his face, I just think
'Roy Hattersley'.

I suspected I needed specs a little while ago (when can we have bigger font Q ?
pleeeeeeeeeeeease ) but reading the International Express today confirmed my
suspicions. I read the headline ...

"Pope John Paul II beautifies Mother Theresa"

with some astonishment & not a little scepticism before re-reading it & noticing I had added a surplus 'u'. It's an interesting concept though & would give 'Changing Rooms' a run for it's money.

Disappearing now to use some of the egg glut to prepare a meringue for dessert.

Which reminds me of my favourite Scots joke ...

To be read out loud in broad Scots brogue ...

'A man walks into an Edinburgh cake shop & says to the assistant behind the counter
"Is that a macaroon or a meringue ?"
"No sir, you're not wrong, it is a macaroon
" replies the assistant'

If you can't do the accent, you won't get the joke.

Some of you will be able to do the accent & still won't get the joke.

Like the sweetheart who e-mailed me to say that they had read the 'Clap clap
the handicapped' joke twice &, like Alice, still 'Didn't gerrit'
And, no, nothing will induce me to reveal their name :)

On which note, several of Ange's friends have replied to say whether or not
they can make her leaving do. Der. Even after seeing the picture.
Double der.

Thank you Q for the article on notters. I spent an hour reading the Beeb's website
about my favourite aminals, including an article which made me say 'aaaaah' more
times than I will confess in print. The staff at the Blue reef sanctuary in Portsmouth
had made the notters fishy ice-lollies to cool them down in the heatwave.

Medals for those staff.

Ang, Thank you for my lovely p/cards lately. Love the expression on wet,
p***ed-off moggy. As for Californian Sea Notters doing hi-fives ? You lucky girl.
ps. I can make your do.

Weeny & Cocky, I am soooo jealous you are going to Quiche's 'do'
The Met won't be the same. Say hi to all the old faces for me, except JP
if he is there. Weeny, I trust you will locate his orange-juice.
Wonder if TCH will turn up & declare loudly that ...

'He is the highest-ranking officer at the do-you know'

Please make sure you take a camera, I want to see if all the gorgeous ones
have lost their hair & grown beer-bellies. Would be interesting to see how
the blokes have changed too.

Di, I was very impressed with your handiwork, have mailed it to Q & expect it
on Blog shortly. How long did that take you, Auntie Doris ?

Ooh, nearly forgot, going socialising tomorrow night to a 'Wild Western Night'
It's not, disappointingly for me, a barn dance, but a night in the local rugby club
with a live band called intriguingly 'White Goat', or 'Dead Goat' as Eric keeps
calling them. Another crowd-pleaser is advertised in the form of 'Flick's Fantastic Crabs'. The mind boggles.

Michelle & Clare have taken it upon themselves to set me up to meet someone
called 'Andrew'. I can picture the scene now ...

'Andrew, this is Carol, she needs to get married to stay in NZ - Andrew, Andre-ew ?'

Off now, will report in with how I get on Sunday.

We have a 10-seater van picking us all up & I for one intend taking advantage of
a glass or 2 of Ribena :)

ttfn,

Cx

Hello Mum xx



Competition Time


Suggestion who can get the best pumpkin carving photo to Cx

The first one is from AG

Good opener




Thursday, October 30, 2003

Two samey kind of days.

Physio, reading, chores.

Yesterday, sunny.

Today, rain stopped play.

Vacuumed the dogs.

Long chat with Mal last night & Stuart this morning.

Found a July Horse & Hound in local stationers ($7.50 !!!!) & had a deeply
enjoyable 2 hours reading it. Miss all English equestrian events hugely ie.
Olympia, Hickstead etc.

Back is much improved. Anticipate Dr will say I can return to work Sat/Sun.

That's it really, inspiration lacking tonight,

Cx





Wednesday, October 29, 2003


Tuesday, October 28, 2003

Howdy y'all,

The kids are sometimes funnier when they say things without realising they can be
heard. The following is a conversation which occurred between Harriette & Alice, when Harri was telling Alice a joke. I make no apology for the content, if you are PC, or easily offended just don't read.

To set the scene, I will tell you how Harriette told me the joke 1st.

H : This bunch of handicapped goes to the zoo.
They see a fish, the keeper asks them what it is.
"A fish" they reply.
"Clap clap the handicapped" says the keeper.

Same question when they see a tiger.
"What is it?" asks the keeper.
"A tiger" they reply.
"Clap clap the handicapped" says the keeper.

The next animal they see is one of those, "oh what do you call them ?
The white things with the black stripes ?" Harriette asks me.

"A zebra" I reply, feeling smug & superior.

"Clap clap the handicapped" says Harriette.

Oh aha ha ha.

So then, she goes off to tell Alice.

H : "A bunch of handicapped goes off to the zoo"

A : "What's handicapped ?"

Harriette explains & Alice replies "That's sad."

Harriette carries on anyway & at the point when she asks Alice what the white
thing is with stripes, Alice replies that she doesn't know.

H : "You do, you do, like a horse but with black & white stripes"

Alice still doesn't know so Harriette has to resort to telling her to "say zebra".

Alice dutifully says "zebra"

At which Harriette shouts the punchline "Clap, clap the handicapped"

Alice : "I don't get it."


Sad aminal story alert

Last night I was quietly blogging & minding my own business when Eric,
dressed like this ...



appears in the lounge & says 'Do you want to see a possum ?'

The fact that he was carring his .22 & had a bullet between his teeth told
me we weren't just going to look at one. I went with him thinking it would
be sad to see a possum get shot but it would get shot whether I was there
or not & I did want to see one close up.

They are completely reviled here for the damage they do & you are told
to deliberately run them over if you see them in the road. I couldn't, when
presented with the opportunity, by the way.

I don't know if Q can find a pic of one but if he can't I will try & describe
one to you. They are about the size of a domestic cat but with a body like
a monkey & a face like a bush-baby. They have a long, prehensile tail & are
always a mixture of colours including gold/yellow/cream/fawn/chocolate.



Very attractive looking aminals (I think)

We went outside with Eric scanning a tree with a head-mounted light & me
supposedly 'helping' by holding the bajillion candle-power torch. I knew after
the way Eric killed Benjamin Bunny that he is a good shot & takes pride in
slotting things cleanly & was determined not to be a distraction by clinging
to his ankles & pleading with him to show mercy.

We soon saw a pair of amber eyes looking at us from about 100' up.
Then we saw another, much smaller pair which belonged to the ickley on
Mum's back & all my brave resolutions went out of the window.

"Oh, she's got a baby Eric, pleeeeease don't shoot her"

When Eric asked why I explained that I was concerned that when Mum fell,
she might be separated from the baby & then baby would slowly starve to death.

Eric's answer didn't exactly cheer me up.

"Don't worry, if I shoot Mum, I'll be shooting baby too."



"I love the smell of napalm in the morning"

That possum must have had a guardian angel because 4 shots later & she was
still blinking down at us. I was willing her to keep her eyes closed as that was
the only thing visible in the darkness. In fairness to Eric, it was a very difficult
shot because she was pressed closed to the trunk & shielded by lots of very
spindly branches.

He could only shoot from the base of the tree as well, as he was worried that if
he stood on the bank to take a shot, it may carry over to their neighbours Gwen & Alan.
I am hoping to go watch Alan do dog trials so would prefer it if Eric didn't take
him out with a stray shot.

You can see the interview in the Waikato Times now can't you ?

Neighbours say ...

"He was a quiet man who kept himself to himself, we were very
surprised when he shot his neighbour, for no apparent reason."


I sent a text later which summed it up.

Eric tried to dead an possum. Boo.
They are vermin though. Hurrah.
It had a baby. Boo.
He missed. Hurrah.
I will never make a proper Kiwi. Boo

Sometimes I think I am getting tougher. Others, not.

Michelle cheered me up today when she said she didn't like the thought of a mum with
a baby being shot either.

It's now 19:45 & darkness is falling.

Eric & Michelle are in the veg plot, planting beans.

Alice & Harriette are playing table-tennis & getting far too excited to go to sleep.

I heard the strangest thing on the radio today when the announcer said ...

"Well, now that we've had Labour Weekend (like a Bank Holiday) that's officially
the start of the summer. Next it's Guy Fawkes night"

I still can't get used to the whole topsy-turvy feeling of traditional cold-weather
activities in the sunshine.

Speaking of traditions, Angie asked me today what I would like for my Christmas/Bday
pressie. You are slacking Ange, you have usually bought all your pressies by July.

I would be grateful if we could stick to cards this year & that goes for everyone
'cept Mum who I will be sending a parcel to. The average cost of sending a relatively
small package is $90 or £30 & I just won't be able to stretch to that many packages
I am afraid. Not to mention the fact that I don't want people having the xtra expense
at that time of year. If you are desperate to buy me a birthday or Xmas pressie
(& that's understandable) save yourself the postage & give it to me at my lavish
'Welcome Home' party.

How are the plans going Di ? Have the invites gone out yet ?
Have the Beckhams confirmed ? Is Justin bringing Cameron ?
I would prefer it if he didn't - she can be a bit jealous, I find.

Disappearing for now to see if I can find 'Dead Ringers' on the internet.

Nice to see Bill using the comments feedback. There are more of you
reading Blog, I know, don't be put off by Q using it, there's still space
for your comments. Some feedback on the new-look Blog & the foties
would be appreciated.

Good-night all, can you believe October is nearly gone already ?

Cx


Monday, October 27, 2003

Newsflash just in from Maam Gough

This is just to let you know I applied for a job last week and have been offered the position.
As you know, I've had a tough time recently and have decided to change my life completely.

I decided to go a totally different way.
The Red Cross needs volunteers and my new role will entail working at a field hospital with other volunteers.

The new post starts on November 10th, 2003 and I am really looking forward to it.
My soon to be co-workers have sent me a picture so that I familiarise myself with my new settings.
Please see the attached photo & don't be worried, as I will be in good hands.

We have a farewell to organise .. let me know if you're free the Saturday after next for a night in London.

Lots of love

Ange x x
Evenin' all,

Pics just e-mailed to the Blog-Meister so hopefully this space will soon be full of cops, Cedar Lodge & baby blah-lambs.



You can see why it's scary when there are gales here




Brown ewe & the latest Cedar Lodge babies




Cagney & Lacey




Just good friends




" Gottle of Gear , Gottle of Gear - Carol's new ventriloquism hobby was hard work "




Look I even wear skirts now




Saddle aka Fu-Manchu


Just been out possum shooting (22:45) but that's a story for tomorrow, bedtime now,


Still waiting to hear all your favourite books please, thanks to those who
have replied already. They won't be published anywhere, so if you want
to tell me your favourite is Nut Brown Hare, your secret is safe with me.

Good night all,

Cx


Good night


Wasn't it the most incredible game ?

I am still absolutely buzzing from it.

Took me ages to get to sleep last night.

Didn't you feel every tackle & run every step with them ?

I think Samoa deserve an award for most entertaining side of the tournament.

The last time I enjoyed a game so much was the '91 final against Oz.

We lost that one, despite the talents of Andrew (sigh) Ackford (did I ever mention ...?)
Underwood (play on the wing for your country & fly jets, how damn sexy is that ?) &
of course, the irrepressible Skinner (did I ever mention ...?)

The game last night was entertaining, frustrating, exciting & everything that a good match should be. My phone was red-hot with dozens of texts in the 1st 10 minutes. I love it when we all sit down to watch a game together, the distance & the time difference just melt away & we could be sitting on the same sofa. I was really pleased that Samoa put up such an outstanding performance & after the 1st half they thoroughly deserved to have the lead they did.

I found myself thinking that if Samoa went on to win the game, England could have absolutely no complaints to lose to such a dynamic side.

I have felt a bit dispirited with the way England have played in the last 6 months. I know that sounds picky because we played well here on tour, beat the AB's & Aussies & have been favourites in the run up to the World Cup. However, having seen the way these Southern Hemisphere sides have played, it makes England look stodgy.

Yes, we win games, because we have crushing forwards & incredibly good discipline, conceding few penalties. I have been longing for England to play more open, passing, running rugby. Last night we actually played that way, in the 2nd half at least.

I was also glad when JW missed a couple & Johnson was penalised repeatedly for infringements. It would be sickening to win a World Cup & be told it was all off Wilkinsons boot. The most exciting aspect of the game, for me, was the speed of the Samoan tackling. Each time an England player received the ball, they had a fraction of a second to dispose of it, before they were skillfully tackled.

A thoroughly great match, worthy of a final.

The Ireland-v-Argentina game was incredibly frustrating to watch. I thought Ireland played the 1st half with all the intensity of a training session. They looked like they couldn't care less. It wasn't until their 22 O'Gara came on, yelling & screaming in his team-mates faces, that they seemed to realise they were in a World Cup. I thought their scrum-half was abysmal. I didn't see him make one decent move for the whole game. I hope for the team's sake he is ditched before they meet Australia.

Did you see the Argentine captain interviewed post-match ? I have never seen anyone so upset after a game. He looked like Bambi too.

The family returned this morning after what sounds like a busy weekend. Michelle is sun-burned on her thighs, which isn't funny, except that she nags me to wear sun-cream if I so much as wind down the car-window. Turns out she wasn't wearing ANY, as I was gleefully informed by the girls, the minute they exploded through the door. They all look tired but relaxed & have managed to bring back some banoffee pie. Hurrah !

Eric & Kevin went sea-fishing both days & left the population of marine-life exactly as they found it. Actually, that's not factual, Eric 'caught' an oyster. Eric thinks there are probably no fish in the sea off New Zealand.

Today is the 1st overcast day in 14 days & it's a bit of a shock. I have put on long trousers.

'I aint appy & I ain't avin it'

Harriette is waiting to get on the computer so I will leave you for now.

Just an observation before I go ...

England = Lions
Aus = Wallabies
S.Africa = Springboks
Arg = Pumas

so far, so good, all 'manly' & inspiring.

Japan = the Cherry Blossoms ?

I would refuse to play if I were Japanese.

Cx




Sunday, October 26, 2003

Hello you lot,

Blogging tonight listening to Tracey Chapman & eating a chocolate mousse.
Stu-did you kow that Bin & Stinca also look like Gianluca Vialli when they lick out
mousse & yoghurt pots ? And we thought it was just Barley.
A perfect end to a pretty sublime today & there's still England thrashing Samoa
to come. If I ever find myself having a bad day in future I will just recall today.

I have just returned from the paddocks & have been checking the aminals & feeding the pigs.

The Tanners are all away for the weekend & don't return until tomorrow am.

Eric's going away care & feeding instructions were,

'The dogs get this much, the chickens get this much, the cows & the sheep aren't
being fed anymore & if there's anything really serious, the vet's number is on the fridge. We don't call the vet for the sheep, the killing knife lives over there'

He was only half-joking.

Everything has gone smoothly, no fires, out of control or otherwise & only Inca has
given me any cause for concern. Twice today he has disappeared to be found
snuffling around in Clare & Ian's paddock looking for tasty treats like afterbirth or
lambs tails. The neighbours have threatened to shoot him which sounds severe
but is standard practice for dogs found worrying sheep. At least they have warned us that is what they will do. Most farmers would just shoot 1st with no warning.

I feel mean binning him up, especially as I let Bin stay out. Seemed unfair to banish
them both when Bin has been very good & not left his doggy hammock except to stretch his legs & get frequent drinks of water. Think I would rather be mean though, than explain to Eric that his dog had been shot whilst I was taking care of him.

Today has been very hot, 25 degrees on the deck, & the bikini has had an outing.
I am very oddly coloured, brown forearms & 'v' & face. Trying to even up the tan now.

When I fed the pigs this evening there was a bit of a breakthrough & the small black one (whose name escapes me) allowed me to scratch her all over. I sat on the floor in the paddock with them whilst they ate & I have done this every time I have fed them. Usually, when I reach out to touch them, they jump as if scalded & run away, no matter how delicately I touch them.

This evening however, I lightly scratched behind her ears whilst she had her nose stuck in the bottom of the scraps tub. Initially, she stiffened & I thought she was going to run away again, then she relaxed, realised it actually felt quite good & allowed me to rub her all over. The other pigs were all watching & looking wary as if to say 'no thanks'.

The pigs eat their food very systematically. They eat their pig nuts 1st, completely disregarding the much more appetising (to me anyway) table scraps. These can include anything, fruit & veg, bits of bread, trimmings & in today's case 2 eggs. Only when the last of the nuts has been hoovered up do they deign to examine the scraps.

The eggs were a 1st & only because I found them in the chichens run today. They had been out in the sun all day yesterday. I didn't fancy eating them but thought the pigs might appreciate them. Their reaction was very amusing. They regarded the eggs with deep suspicion & even when I made yummy little appetising noises they weren't convinced. They took large, elaborate strides around the eggs as if they were dangerous explosives which may go off unbidden at any moment.

Then one of the pigs stepped on an egg & cracked it. As soon as they got a whiff of its contents they hurled themselves upon it, sucking & slurping eagerly like alcoholics downing their 1st drink of the day. I thought the other egg would be despatched rapidly, now they were familiar with the contents. But no, there followed the same ritual of sniffing & looking at the 'dangerous' egg warily.

Finally, I held the egg out to the same one who had cracked the 1st one. Without any hesitation, she took it, cracked it & then fought the other 3 for the glutinous, yellow insides. Very amusing.

As I was feeding the pigs I was being watched by the cows & calves. The cows still hope to be fed by every human they see & so follow, just in case. I am very taken with most of the cows & needless to say, my calf Carol, is very beautiful. She has a gorgeous, pert face, very like the Jerseys so prolific here. The exceptions to the rule are 'Mad Petunia' & Evil Fu-Manchu calf or 'Saddle'. Petunia lost her calf who suffocated at birth & hasn't been 'right' since. She is prone to lungeing about in the most peculiar way & for no apparent reason, head lowered & rear hooves flailing wildly. The other cows give her a wide berth & I don't trust her as far as I could throw her.

The other calf isn't evil, like Petunia, he just looks it. He is a dead ringer for the baddie in Fu-Manchu movies with eyes which are sloping & heavily ringed with black kohl pencil. We will awake one day to find Petunia running the joint & Fu-Manchu as her henchman, I just know it. No pics of either for the time being as the laptop has gone away with the family & I can't download my pics to the desktop.

After the cows, I went & looked at the sheep. There are 38 at the moment, including 4 new-borns & 2 rams, Tua & Cyril. Tua is a big, handsome beast with a Roman nose. There are lots of leggy lambs with black faces this season. Cyril is past his prime & once Tua had kicked his butt to show him what was what, they settled down to a very peaceful existence together. Tua occasionally shoves him around a bit, Cyril offers no resistance & harmony is restored.

I think there are birds nesting in Eric's Range-Rover. I saw something swoop under the bonnet, from the corner of my eye today. It lies dormant in the front paddock, to Michelle's dismay, she says it gives the place a 'Steptoe & Son' air.
Eric says he will use it again when he has the parts it needs. In the meantime, I
am glad someone is using it for a home.

Bill & chums visited yesterday. He was accompanied by his skipper Dave & another PC, Mark. They were only able to stay an hour or so but it was enough time for 2 cups of tea & a very quick guided tour or Cedar Lodge. Bill is very settled as a traffic cop now, or 'snake', so much so, that when I asked if he wanted a tour he asked 'On foot ?'

They were shown all the relevant sites, including the pool, where the chichens live, & the remnants of 'The Fire'. They oohed & aahed in all the right places. They said what most people say, which is 'Wow - I fancy this lifestyle'. They were then cajoled into foties for Blog & on their way again.

It amused me to watch Bill & exactly the same dynamics at work as with his colleagues in the UK. Bill grabs the converstion & runs with it, not in a rude way, he just doesn't have time for your input. He was even finishing off my questions & then answering them himself & saying that I spoke too slowly now I live in the country. His 2 colleagues would try to interrupt his rapid flow of observations, accents, anecdotes & impressions. They would fail & sit back & listen, like me. Talk about a one-man band. Very funny, a great talker, not convinced he's a bloke really. Oh yes & he's grown since the last time I saw him ?

Bill, I am making bread at the moment. In the machine. That makes bread. Which gets used. And doesn't live in a cupboard.

Bill says he would like to take his house & put it at the top of the Tanner's driveway. Can't see it would be a problem, Eric works for the council after all, I'm sure the planning permission would be a doddle. Commute would be a b***er though.

Last night I set out to watch 3 rugby games back-to-back. Australia-v-Namibia, then Italy-v-Wales & finally Scotland-v-France. Did you see the Oz game ? Poor Namibia, how embarrassing. 142-0, if you didn't see it, more like a cull than a game. I thought their skipper was extremely dignified & tactful at the end-of-match interview, especially when the Aussie interviewer asked him ...

'Surely, it must be a great honour for your team to play the Wallabies ?'

Then Wales & Italy. I really wanted Wales to win. I don't think Italy merit a place even in 6 Nations. I was pleasantly surprised when Wales won so easily though, especially given their prop was Miss Piggy. Have you ever seen such girly hair on a rugby player, let alone a forward. I'd love to cut it all off whilst he's asleep.

Get your hair cut Duncan Jones ! Bring back national service, I say.

I was too bushed to watch the Scotland-France game & still don't know the score. Would I be making a very unfair assumption if I guessed that France won ?

Tonight is Argentina-v-Ireland at 8pm. No prizes for guessing who I'll be cheering for. Has Garth made it to OZ for the World Cup, Cocky ? Then England will be handing out the slaps to Samoa at 10.30pm. It would be nice to see a close, hard-fought game for a change. Not the England one though, obviously.

So we face the Welsh dragon on the 9th Nov in the 1/4 final. Can't see it being a tough game unless they arm the Welsh.

I heard something today which set my teeth on edge. Some band called 'No Doubt' who I seem to recall are headed by Gwen Stefani have covered Talk-Talks classic 'It's my life'. I have no gripe with Ms Stefani hersef & have liked some of her hip-hop stuff.

It's my Life

Funny how I find myself in love with you
If I could buy my reasoning I'd pay to lose
One half won't do
I've asked myself
How much do you commit yourself?

It's my life (Don't you forget)

Funny how I blind myself
I never knew if I was sometimes played upon
Afraid to lose, I'd tell myself what good you do
Convince myself

It's my life

How much do you commit yourself?

It's my life
Don't you forget
Caught in the crowd
It's my life




HOWEVER-I was 16, in 1984 when 'It's my life' was released & it seemed to sum up perfectly how I felt at the time. Anxious, lonely, unsure of myself, hormonal & very mixed up. A teenager, in short. It has always been a hugely evocative record for me & I have even tried to limit how many times I hear it, so that it never loses that appeal. I am very p***ed off that anyone should cover this record at all, but when the vocals are weak, reedy & breathy it just compounds the insult. Talk Talk had a clean, pure, understated sound which was very powerful because of it. No Doubt have taken the score & put jingly-jangly, LA pop, crappy guitars all over it. It is the most sucky cover in the whole sucky history of sucky covers. Ever.

And breathe.

Sorry, starting to sound like Q on a music-journo rave then.

Well, I have a few minutes before the Ire-Arg game so am going to grab some dinner & listen to a few Archers episodes.

Thank you for listening to my 'perfect day'.
It only needed a horse-ride to make it any better.
Oh yes - & the quarry lorries weren't running, the only noises I heard all day
were made by aminals.

Love to all,

Cx