Hovis_and_SidsMum
Well-Known Member
Dear diary
Ive had quite a good week this week as Mum had to work away for 4 days rather than 3 so its been very relaxing.
Mind you I needed that time to recover from the weekend. Since mum works away she insists that the days shes home we HAVE to work, no mater what the weather or anything. So on Friday (as reported last week) I was made to endure a hack of trek like endurance with howling wind and rain. Oh and tractors lots of tractors.
On Saturday she made me work in the menage on our turns. YAWN. Now ok I do admit when I get excited out jumping some of my turns can be a little unorthodox but thats not reason to make me endure an hour of boring circles, transitions and general ponciness. If I promise to stop cornering like a very large, hairy Valentino Rossi do you think shell stop? Its so dull. The only highlight was the fact tarty Smartie is in a field near the menage so it was like a nice merry-go-round hello-yummy-Smartie- more-dull-trotting-hello-yummy-Smartie-more-dull-trotting-hello-yummy-Smartie-more-dull-trotting .. you get the idea. She got bored watching so have a little bit of sympathy for how boring I found it all.
Then on Sunday mum returned to the idea that I need to ponce about like a giant fairy with my head on my chest. Damn it all I thought shed given up on that particular daft idea. We had a few brief moment of arguing about this before she reminded me who is boss ..well more to the point reminded me she carries a schooling whip and it stings.
Still apparently I was not behaving well enough so Dad got on. Hurrah! Thought I Yeehaa cantering and no cares about nicely cornering or poncy head carriage. But no! I think my Dad has had an epifanny, epifenny, epif - damn it I am only a horse I cant spell that a brain fart, because he insisted on me poncing about also. This is SO not on. Do I look like a dressage diva? I sulked for the rest of the day until mum gave me carrots, then I lost my ability to strop as its uncool to do so with a mouth full of orangy goodness.
Anyway for the rest of this week Billy and I have been hanging out in the fields behind the hedge. Mum says we have been put behind the hedge because we lower the tone of the place and that way boss lady Sarah gets to hide the two bog monsters from view. I think that is featherist and I demand to be treated equally to the sleek, free-from-sawdust-in-their-manes-and-tails-but-nonetheless-wimpy TBs on the yard. That said we have the place to ourselves and so have had a boys week chilling out and eating lots of good grass.
Mum is coming back later to ride and is already threatening dire consequences if I am naughty. I have tried to point out its raining and blowing a gale but Mother will not be deterred. Mind you I swear I heard her mention she needs to buy some wellies and practice gyrating on the mounting block for some special dance shes going to learn but perhaps you lot know more about that than me? Failing that someone call me the men with the white coats .
Ive had quite a good week this week as Mum had to work away for 4 days rather than 3 so its been very relaxing.
Mind you I needed that time to recover from the weekend. Since mum works away she insists that the days shes home we HAVE to work, no mater what the weather or anything. So on Friday (as reported last week) I was made to endure a hack of trek like endurance with howling wind and rain. Oh and tractors lots of tractors.
On Saturday she made me work in the menage on our turns. YAWN. Now ok I do admit when I get excited out jumping some of my turns can be a little unorthodox but thats not reason to make me endure an hour of boring circles, transitions and general ponciness. If I promise to stop cornering like a very large, hairy Valentino Rossi do you think shell stop? Its so dull. The only highlight was the fact tarty Smartie is in a field near the menage so it was like a nice merry-go-round hello-yummy-Smartie- more-dull-trotting-hello-yummy-Smartie-more-dull-trotting-hello-yummy-Smartie-more-dull-trotting .. you get the idea. She got bored watching so have a little bit of sympathy for how boring I found it all.
Then on Sunday mum returned to the idea that I need to ponce about like a giant fairy with my head on my chest. Damn it all I thought shed given up on that particular daft idea. We had a few brief moment of arguing about this before she reminded me who is boss ..well more to the point reminded me she carries a schooling whip and it stings.
Still apparently I was not behaving well enough so Dad got on. Hurrah! Thought I Yeehaa cantering and no cares about nicely cornering or poncy head carriage. But no! I think my Dad has had an epifanny, epifenny, epif - damn it I am only a horse I cant spell that a brain fart, because he insisted on me poncing about also. This is SO not on. Do I look like a dressage diva? I sulked for the rest of the day until mum gave me carrots, then I lost my ability to strop as its uncool to do so with a mouth full of orangy goodness.
Anyway for the rest of this week Billy and I have been hanging out in the fields behind the hedge. Mum says we have been put behind the hedge because we lower the tone of the place and that way boss lady Sarah gets to hide the two bog monsters from view. I think that is featherist and I demand to be treated equally to the sleek, free-from-sawdust-in-their-manes-and-tails-but-nonetheless-wimpy TBs on the yard. That said we have the place to ourselves and so have had a boys week chilling out and eating lots of good grass.
Mum is coming back later to ride and is already threatening dire consequences if I am naughty. I have tried to point out its raining and blowing a gale but Mother will not be deterred. Mind you I swear I heard her mention she needs to buy some wellies and practice gyrating on the mounting block for some special dance shes going to learn but perhaps you lot know more about that than me? Failing that someone call me the men with the white coats .
