Hovis_and_SidsMum
Well-Known Member
Dear Man upstairs
I once again write to you as I think, to be frank, we need a word.
I am very aware that it was not long ago that I wrote to you asking for an end to the white stuff and the misery it brought. I am also painfully aware I promised not to moan about muddy feathers, wet rugs and the like if you listened to my request for a thaw.
I freely admit to writing all of the above but why do you feel its necessary to test the endurance of my rather rash and desperate promise by sending in so much rain Hovis is turning into a sea horse? A few more days of this and Noah and the blasted Arc are likely to be sailing down our driveway. The only plus side to that is if I can find a female Hovis then two by two you can take the mud monster off my hands for a few months?
Unfortunately your response to my last letter has left me no choice but to once again call into question your connection with us mere mortals by making the following points:
1. Mud and Feathers don't mix. Fact. I accept that it was my fault for buying a feathered beast and flatly refusing to clip them off but is this anyway to respond? Its bad enough that the hair on my own head can defy the laws of gravity and any claims haircare manufacturers make on "taming" but do I have to go through the same pain with my steed?
2. I have a horse with white legs. I like having a horse with white legs. Its very pretty. Is it therefore too much to ask to have a period of time when I can tell they are white? I know some may feel that "off brown" is a good look but alas I am not one of them.
3. I am short. This is down to you not granting me the legs of Cindy Crawford. I have learnt to cope with this impediment over the years but removing wet rugs from a beast so tall i can't see over his back without getting drenched is an impossibility. You punished me once by giving me appendages more suited to a scrum half in a vertically challenged rugby team, please can I actually have a day when I'm not swamped under half a tonne of a wet stinking masta special?
4. I do not have a dressage horse. I cannot ride like a dressage rider. Therefore when Hovis is prancing sideways down the school to avoid the driving rain this is neither intentional nor controllable. Give me a break.
5. In addition to short legs you also gave me the eyesight of a myopic sparrow. Again I have learnt to cope with this ovr the years but being forced to peer through the gloom being pelted in the face by rain drops big enough to concuss a squirrel is not sporting. Not being able to see where you are going and being forced to trust a horse with a brain the size of a pea to avoid holes is dangerous. Shame on you.
6. I try to wear sensible underwear to ride in. This is my attempt to avoid unsightly and frankly unnecessary chafffing. However when one is so wet one can ring said undergarments out, the sensible nature of ones bridget Jones knickers is negated. I guess your lack of understanding of this issue does perhaps reinforce the long held belief that you are a man.
7. Finally whilst i accept that you have provided me with a suitable mate I still occasionally would like to be able to go into Tescos without scaring the local male population into fleeing the store screaming. The bedraggled, mud soaked appearance combined with the John Wayne walk (due to chaffing) and the strong wiff of wet horse is not conducive to the above. Please cut me some slack here? And no the answer is NOT online shopping.........
In summary whilst I accept that you removed the white stuff I also feel you rather unfairly decided to test my mettle with regard to my dubious promise of no moaning about wet weather. Well ok. You win. I am a weak willed, lilley livered life form. But I'd rather like to be a dry one.
Please?
Yours drenched of Lincolnshire.
I once again write to you as I think, to be frank, we need a word.
I am very aware that it was not long ago that I wrote to you asking for an end to the white stuff and the misery it brought. I am also painfully aware I promised not to moan about muddy feathers, wet rugs and the like if you listened to my request for a thaw.
I freely admit to writing all of the above but why do you feel its necessary to test the endurance of my rather rash and desperate promise by sending in so much rain Hovis is turning into a sea horse? A few more days of this and Noah and the blasted Arc are likely to be sailing down our driveway. The only plus side to that is if I can find a female Hovis then two by two you can take the mud monster off my hands for a few months?
Unfortunately your response to my last letter has left me no choice but to once again call into question your connection with us mere mortals by making the following points:
1. Mud and Feathers don't mix. Fact. I accept that it was my fault for buying a feathered beast and flatly refusing to clip them off but is this anyway to respond? Its bad enough that the hair on my own head can defy the laws of gravity and any claims haircare manufacturers make on "taming" but do I have to go through the same pain with my steed?
2. I have a horse with white legs. I like having a horse with white legs. Its very pretty. Is it therefore too much to ask to have a period of time when I can tell they are white? I know some may feel that "off brown" is a good look but alas I am not one of them.
3. I am short. This is down to you not granting me the legs of Cindy Crawford. I have learnt to cope with this impediment over the years but removing wet rugs from a beast so tall i can't see over his back without getting drenched is an impossibility. You punished me once by giving me appendages more suited to a scrum half in a vertically challenged rugby team, please can I actually have a day when I'm not swamped under half a tonne of a wet stinking masta special?
4. I do not have a dressage horse. I cannot ride like a dressage rider. Therefore when Hovis is prancing sideways down the school to avoid the driving rain this is neither intentional nor controllable. Give me a break.
5. In addition to short legs you also gave me the eyesight of a myopic sparrow. Again I have learnt to cope with this ovr the years but being forced to peer through the gloom being pelted in the face by rain drops big enough to concuss a squirrel is not sporting. Not being able to see where you are going and being forced to trust a horse with a brain the size of a pea to avoid holes is dangerous. Shame on you.
6. I try to wear sensible underwear to ride in. This is my attempt to avoid unsightly and frankly unnecessary chafffing. However when one is so wet one can ring said undergarments out, the sensible nature of ones bridget Jones knickers is negated. I guess your lack of understanding of this issue does perhaps reinforce the long held belief that you are a man.
7. Finally whilst i accept that you have provided me with a suitable mate I still occasionally would like to be able to go into Tescos without scaring the local male population into fleeing the store screaming. The bedraggled, mud soaked appearance combined with the John Wayne walk (due to chaffing) and the strong wiff of wet horse is not conducive to the above. Please cut me some slack here? And no the answer is NOT online shopping.........
In summary whilst I accept that you removed the white stuff I also feel you rather unfairly decided to test my mettle with regard to my dubious promise of no moaning about wet weather. Well ok. You win. I am a weak willed, lilley livered life form. But I'd rather like to be a dry one.
Please?
Yours drenched of Lincolnshire.
A large lump of 16.3 hh IBxTB going flat out can't stop within a four foot braking space. She was not Miss Popularity with the YO, who had to refence a 20 ft section in the pouring rain, or with me who had the dreaded call at work about a "small accident" in the field. One cut and a fat leg later ...
