Tails From Provence
What happens when a horsemad Ould Wagon moves from Cork to Provence with 2 horses, 2 dogs and a Long Suffering Husband? Why, she gets a third dog, discovers Natural Horsemanship à la Française, starts writing short stories and then discovers a long-buried talent for art, of course…
Well Impressed…
…with my healing powers,
…given that I looked like this ten days ago :
One of my initial reactions to my injuries (besides ‘OW!’ and ‘SH*TE!’) was that I was going to look a sight when we visited Paris the following weekend. I’m happy to say that the cut on my lip looked no worse than a cold sore and the bruising on my chin was only noticeable in bright light.
The inside of my lip is still a bit swollen and annoying, but at least I can eat and drink normally now, without slurping and dribbling. My left hip/pelvis feels blocked and I think I will have to see an osteopath to sort it out, but all in all I got off very lightly.
MC is pretty sure she has a broken rib and she’s still taking it easy. No riding and gentle yoga stretches every day. She’s much more disciplined than me, I only manage every second day at best!
Tails from Paris coming soon.
Pepper
I wrote this post in the summer of 2012. By the end of the summer, I still had no home for Pepper and I realised that, despite my tough words, I wasn’t ready to euthanise him. My kind friends, Denise and John, came to the rescue and cared for him since September 2012. He had a happy seventeen months on their farm in West Cork, before being hit with a seemingly mild colic last Monday. The vet came and the prognosis was not good – surgery was the only option. Well, surgery is not an option for a 28 year old pony. There was no decision to be made.
The vet spoke to me to explain the situation. I gave the ok and was stunned at how upset I was. Denise gave Pepper one last hug from me and they helped him through his final minutes.
Thanks, Pepper, for all the fun and games throughout your life! Thanks Denise and John, for looking after him so well and for prolonging his life by seventeen months. I will forever be in your debt for that.
(By the way, Denise, all previous debts for 2am emergencies are now repaid in full. And then some)
It’s strange to be able to say of a pony “I knew his father well” but I could truthfully say that about our Pepper!
Pepper’s father Glen was a 14.2, dark bay, part Connemara pony who had been gelded late, at five years of age. He ended up in the riding school where I trained for my BHSAI and lived out his days there. At first, he was lively and sparky, and only used for working pupils and experienced riders. If you were told you were riding Glen, your heart beat faster and you knew you were in for some exciting moments, especially when jumping! He settled down over the years, eventually becoming one of the stalwarts who knew exactly what to do at every point in every lesson.
A young girl who lived next door to the riding school and was a regular helper eventually became the proud owner…
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Back in the Saddle
Certain friends were concerned about me being nervous next time I rode.
This should reassure them 😄
Have a look at my Art!
Commissions
Tails From Provence 