rain rain rain rain rain

That's all it's doing right now. The horses are stuck in and I'm stuck with the resulting ever-filthy stalls! I last rode on Friday as Mav had a visit from the Osteopath, which has sorted out a vertabra(e)? In his lumbar region, as well as a rib that was mis-aligned. Poor guy. I'm looking forward to working him again and starting where we left off with the jumping. Problem is he's a complete freak to ride indoors and much better out, as am I, so it's not going to be possible to crack on too much. Easy stuff for the next couple of days, and then we can maybe take in a small trail when the rain stops. If it stops...So much flooding and fear of flooding in many places right now.

Today I bought two saddle blankets from amazon which I will use while I'm here, and I've found a seemingly good size western saddle on UK ebay, which I have bid for and if I win, that can go live at my mum's. There's already talk of me staying here for the full year of my visa, rather than just the summer, which is a big deal, but it would mean I'd get to see the foals when they're born in March, as well as experience living through a *real* winter! I'm pretty intimidated by that right now, I have to confess! This job is great, but what would make it perfect would be having Frankie here. I want to ride the trails with him, go visit the alpacas with him, do trec, all sorts. Meh.

I've rewritten a memory of competing from years ago that I had on my very old computer when I was younger. That's in much better detail, but this is the best I could do after a couple of glasses of wine and a stressful, wet day!

I was used to competing against adults and people who I now read about in Horse and Hound every week, every summer who ride professionally and have owners for a great deal of their horses. I wasn't so much impressed by the riders as by the horses. I knew all the qualifiers and who the judge's favourites were. I wasn't one of them. I was a 13 year old girl on a skinny but stylish horse who rarely faulted. Due to the rules of working hunter, we often had to win, or at least place.

Being a bit of an optimist and having such an honest, scopey horse, who through his breeding and paperwork was eligible to do these classes, I entered Horse of the Year Show qualifiers. We only did 4 or 5 shows a year due to money being tight and showing being expensive. We did a local qualifier in April to get our ticket to the BSPS champs, then the Northern Horse show, sadly no longer going, the NPS area 4 show at Harrogate, another local show to keep in tune, then the BSPS champs, where we did 3 or 4 classes over 3 days. It was always fun to stay away at a show and have the atmosphere of being at the large ground with all the classes running simultaneously.

So, I started affiliated showing in 1999, and we did two HOYS qualifiers, which I unfortunately remember little of, except one of them was that of the demon hedge and the 5 finishers in a class of 28. I was sat on Frankie, watching person after person fall or be eliminated, thinking 'This is a different class, and they sure as heck ain't it!' I knew Frankie would get round, but I wasn't naïve enough to think we'd win first out. We got placed something like 5^th and 4^th that year, but only 1^st qualifies! In 2000, we did the same thing, another 2 classes and the same demon course builder, who did all the HOYS courses in the north, Bob someone, I think. I hated him for scaring me, but I loved him for building tracks no one else was up to! One class had a bounce. Easy! For us anyway. The qualifiers were always big entries, 25+ and the courses 1m with spreads allowed up to 1m, so a fair size for rustic, solid looking obstacles. We were in exceeding 138cms classes, although there were rarely ponies much smaller than Frankie – people tended to get them measured in for under 138s. Grr. How I used to long to be able to pop round the small courses with no nerves! But it wasn't to be. Me, Frankie and all the 15.2hh cobs, a full hand higher than us, did these classes. There was us, some Connemaras and brave, too-tall for under 138 New Forests usually. In 2000, we again placed in both qualifiers, coming 2^nd and so darn close in the last one! We were then 2^nd in the Heritage finals at the championships, after being 3^rd in '99, and I thought 'hey, this ain't so tough' although I still felt sick with nerves and like a lump of jelly. Frankie deserves 95% of the credit for getting us round any course, I just did the steering and gave the occasional kick!

western trails

erk. Had sushi for tea with Sake - not really a fan - and have then chased this down with a Corona and a Caramilk, my first Canadian vice. The supermarkets here are awesome, a hybrid of the best bits of Europe and the States. Coles and Woolies in Aus remain my absolute faves, but Metro Plouffe will do for the summer. Canadians like savoury pie, and I do too. Result.

I have my day off tomorrow and I am very tempted to go to the tack store and pick up a couple of neon splash halters to send over to my mum for Frankie and Jack. They'd look so metrosexual and fun.

Went for two trail rides today. Schooled Maverik and then followed Tatoum, the Canadian mare, and Valerie for a mini trail up the rue and into the woods. We encountered water, which it took two of Tatoum's go throughs to get Mav to follow. He wasn't that spooky, although I had been warned he would be, and we even leapt - and I mean coiled like a spring and pinged! -over a ditch. All rounder!

I then went out on Chelsea, a 15hh palomino Paint, who is pure Western and rides in a massive shank bit but of course Western, you don't really use the mouth -or I didn't on the trail - and I enjoyed her spins a little and her comfy jog and lope as we loped across a meadow, Western film style, to the neighbour's homestead! fun.

Tomorrow, shopping might await. I'm definitely going to get me some pecan pie, and maybe another Ben and Jerry's special '1000000 flavors' carton.

Canadian spring!

Comes very late! It was already pretty green and warm when I left the UK nearly a month ago, but despite some warmth here, trees and bushes are only just getting round to budding and sprouting. Luckily nights are light and the sun is out fairly frequently, so it feels somewhat like summer.

I've managed to ride the big fella in the outdoor arena a couple of times now and he's much more relaxed than when indoors. I'd tend to judge it the other way round with most horses, but it's his preference. I rode a lot indoors when I was younger, fortunate to board at a competition yard, but after that, we were based somewhere with just an outdoor, so winters were long and rainy! After that we had an indoor again, then when we got our own place, it was back to a manege and cold, windy, wet after school sessions!

Anyway, he - the dressage horse I'm schooling 5 times a week - is up for sale pretty soon and is a good guy. I'm going to try him over fences when I get the chance as he's been keen over poles and has a nice, genial attitude. He's 17, but lightly used so I'm hopeful that someone - perhaps young - will take him on to do a bit of everything.

I also have a small pony to work in hand, a large Canadian mare to do groundwork and longeing with, and a couple of western/trail trained horses to ride lightly and longe.

Busy and new and exciting. I'm developing my equine cv at last.

horses as business?

I read a lot of blogs who have links to rescues and retirement set-ups for horses and I'm full of admiration for them. I can think of nothing better than giving happiness and care to wonderful, deserving horses, particularly where their previous owners have not been so kind.

I can also think of nothing worse than the inevitability of losing them all to old age or illness.

I suck with death. People, not so much. It shocks me and I grieve, but it doesn't devastate me - although I know that one day it will, when it is a person I love dearly. The death of animals I love devastates me. My best friend's family dog passed recently and although I only visited them a few times a year for the last 10 years or so, I loved that dog and I couldn't help but cry.

What my link to my post title is therefore, is that my attitude to horses varies as to whether I am working with them, or if they are my own. I have never sold a horse of my own and never will. I am fortunate in that my mum agrees with this. When I went to college, Frankie was still a good age and full of potential and I suggested that maybe we sell him, so that he could carry on doing what he enjoyed for someone else to appreciate. She wouldn't hear of it. I used to torture myself at night, thinking what a waste it was of a great pony and what he could have been doing, but what did he know of that? He was happy, living in his herd with regular feed, water, shelter and care. He's as loved by me and my mum as he could be by anybody, and right now i'd probably still cry myself to sleep if he had gone and something had happened or we'd lost touch with him. I have no idea if I was right or wrong, but at least he's still around, fat, healthy, sassy and happy to prove that it wasn't the worst outcome.

I couldn't imagine selling on or getting rid of a horse that couldn't be ridden anymore, not where I had such a close bond and love for the animal. It appalls me that people will sell or dump animals in their 20s or 30s who have been family pets and children's wonder horses when they can no longer be ridden. Morally, how do you do that? Emotionally?

I know i've been lucky with Ollie and Frankie, and I'll be forever grateful to Ian for finding them both for me. They were both the perfect ponies for me at each stage and Frankie is my equine soulmate. If I could have any horse in the world for the rest of my life, it would be him. I tear up just thinking about it! I'm not special, I think he'd do most anything for anybody if they asked him right, but I've had the pleasure of being the asker and the receiver of his abilities and bravery and the wonder of going from local shows one year to HOYS the next because of his scope, honesty and his faith in himself, not in me thinking that a fence was too scary. It so wasn't!

There are so many things I still want to do with him but due to circumstances, I don't know if it's possible. I'm in Canada right now, and he's at home! Still, if horses are to be my business, it won't be interfering with the pleasure I take at having such a perfect horse for me.

risking it for more than a biscuit

I'm currently waiting for an email to confirm that I have been issued a Canadian Visa, or, on the flip side, a letter to say that I haven't.

I've been offered a job working with horses in Quebec, conditional on me getting a visa pdq!

I quit my job on Friday. I don't mind my job, but I hate a couple of people I work with. I love some others and I will stay in touch with at least one of them, but honestly, the though of spending another year, summer, month working in an office, this office, playing cricket every weekend, not seeing my boyfriend because he's got a stupid-ass job with long hours and wondering why I'm not living my dreams. I'm 25 this year and I want to spend at least 2 of the next 5 years living in Australia. You only get to apply for Working Holiday visas until you're 30, so i've got 5 years to do what I want, as long as I can make enough money to fund it.

If I don't get my visa, I will go to Australia as soon as I've saved a bit more.

I love my horses but they're not going to be around forever and I have to do what I want to do as well. I want to do this. I want to travel around, I want to do work I love, and I want to have fun. That's all! For now...

is there an end in sight?

2011 could be the year for leaving the UK. Mum has long wanted to move to warmer climes with the horses, but due to the absolute mess the Highways Agency and their contractors have made of half of our fields, the house decreased so much in value, that it just hasn't been possible for her.

However, a resolution to the problem may be in sight. Operative word being 'may' of course, but we can hope.

I also have a potential summer job offer in a country that is not the UK, which would be brilliant if visas and applications and everything come together, but I will know in a few weeks whether that will happen or not.

winter blues, whites, browns

Those are the main colours around this part of the country at the minute. It's been the coldest December in the 15 years we've had horses. My first Christmas with Oliver was 1995, and it snowed a teensy bit, but basically just a dusting. Since moving out into the hills, there have been more snowy times, but this takes the cake. The temperatures have been down to -15, which i'm not sure any of our horses have experienced before! It snowed so much that the lane to the house was blocked and my mum was snowed in. I was moved to order some new heavyweight turnouts for Frankie, who had finally ripped the last useable turnout he had (nice purple one!) and for Luke, who never grows a winter coat and is a bit delicate. Having said that, Luke had managed to not wreck - or have it wrecked by Frankie the thug - for about 10 years, so it is a timely replacement. They've also had polarfleeces on under rugs at night and Luke has had an additional lightweight stable blanket as he drops weight at the mere hint of freezing temperatures. Jack is the woolliest beast at this time of year, and grows an impressive beard, as well as belly and chest coat, so he can wait for a rug update as he's pretty careful with his Aspen combo. He likes to come up and exchange breaths which I don't mind at all as he has a lovely velvety nose, compared to Frankie's somewhat slobbery one and Luke's little blonde moustache. I haven't been able to get up to visit because of the weather, but I really want to go sledging on the hill in their field. I did this once a few years back, and unfortunately had my phone stolen that had a video of it on. I went down one side of the hill on my bright yellow sledge, and they kicked up their heels and ran down their side, bucking, snorting, rampaging. They whirled round and pulled up, puffing out hot air, eyes wide. As I drew to a halt, Frankie the brave dared to approach me, slowly, tentatively, in a serpentine shape, a few steps left and forward, a few steps right and forward. He looks (and maybe sounds) like a dragon when he gets going, nostrils flared, puffing little snorts out. He eventually figured out it was me, when I got up and spoke to him, but it was such fun, to feel the speed of the sledge, and to see them running in mock fear and excitement. Our horses are so much fun.