This is a bit of a dull post for most readers, but I like to keep a record of special days, even if I don't have any photos, and only want to prattle on about horses (again).
Today I had a very leisurely start to the day. Reading in bed, and then a lovely chat to my dear mumsy, complete with a cup of tea. The weather was dreary here, but no rain. I had a date with Zanny planned, so headed out to the farm after lunch, and the weather was lovely and mild there. I stripped off my scarf and jersey and felt a bit silly being so bundled up. Viv wanted to come out with us on Jack, but she let me go out and spend some time with my girl before she came out, because she doesn't groom, just tacks up, and I love preening and primping Zanny so she looks her best, which takes time. "Doesn't groom?" I hear you ask. Yes indeed. I LOVE thoroughly brushing Zanny, and carefully picking out her hooves, and I don't hear her complaining either. But Viv is always busy, so sees grooming as an optional extra.
Today, we both had our mounts ready (one muddy, and the other sparkling), when a young man came to have a test ride on Jack. Darling Jack is looking for a new home, so, although a little disappointed to miss the good conversation while riding, I was happy to let Jack go off to the arena, and Zanny and I went out on our own. Now that shows Zanny's truly wonderful temperament. She had Jack standing there beside her all ready to go, and we just walked away from him with no debate. I love that about her. We had another brilliant relaxed ride. I decided that she needed to stretch her legs a little and we had some trots along the broad grass verge, which we both enjoyed. I always like it when we ride past the crazy chicken lady's house, and today there were feathered creatures everywhere, including an enormous turkey wandering on the road, that let out a raucous gobble as we approached, making me jump a little, and Zanny look with interest.
Zanny's tummy is so round, and Viv said we will be able to see the foal moving before too long. I leaned my cheek against her flank, listening and feeling, and all I heard were enormous gurgles (horse farts in waiting). I've been trying to imagine the dear foal curled up inside. I am so hopeful all is well with it. Twins would be the worst outcome, and I know Viv has that in the back of her mind. She will lose them if that is the case. We were laughing about her being the surrogate mother to my child. I'm glad I don't have the stretch marks she must have under her fuzzy winter coat.
I'm planning some sewing and possibly a visit to Stitch tomorrow. I promise photos are on their way.
Ps. I wonder what people buy the Queen for her real birthday? A spangled lead for one of her corgis? A multi-pack of her favourite brand of knickers (full briefs, I'm sure)? A pair of gold tweezers for plucking whiskers from her chin (for the photos, of course)? The latest Jilly Cooper novel? It must be a dilemma for her nearest and dearest.