I suspect that after her finest hour on Sunday, Phoebe decided to celebrate yesterday by having a mud bath. She came in from the field last night absolutely "clarted" (yorkshire word) in mud from head to foot. She has got wet sticky mud absolutely EVERYWHERE. This morning I have to get her clean enough to ride, as the saddle fitter is coming at 11am to re-adjust her saddle. I wouldn't mind but she goes out in a horse-wardrobe of clothes, including overcoat, head cover etc etc that cost about £300. My coat cost twenty-five quid in last year's H&M sale and I've never got a speck of mud on it...what's that about then?
Bugsy on the other hand is such a gay-boy that he never even gets mud on his legs.
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Today I'm going somewhere but I can't say where. "Shim shams for Meddlers" my Mum would say. Whenever we asked a 'nose...
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Yesterday I went on an adventure to Cambridge. I've never been so I though I would (go, I mean). Anyway it rained - a lot - but I had a ... -
Some days I could just scream. Really. Some days I could bash my head against a wall until I go dizzy. Some days I could cheerfully hit some...
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