Wednesday, 13 June 2012

In which I have absolutely no idea what I am talking about

Posted by Tania Kindersley.

No sleep last night, so my mind is absolutely buggered. I really do not know how new mothers do it. One occasional night of insomnia does for me completely.

I spend a quiet morning with my mare. I am absolutely fascinated by her shifting states of mind. There are people who will not buy a chestnut mare, especially one with three white socks. Mares are supposed to be moody and unpredictable and impossible to deal with when they come into season. I think this is pure sexism. I have never owned a mare before, but I have admired them from afar. The only mood I have ever seen the great Irish mare Quevega have, for instance, is sheer gutsiness and determination and romping delight as she storms up the Cheltenham hill.

I don’t think Red’s temperament is anything to do with her gender or her colour. Like all living creatures, she has quirks and feelings. Some days she is quite antic and frisky; other days she is dozy as an old dog. On one morning her stubborn streak will be on display; on another she is biddable and eager to please. She can be as haughty as a queen empress. Sometimes she does not want to be bothered at all. One evening last week she was actually quite cross that I woke her from a nice rest.

Today, she was pure affection. She buried her head in the crook of arm and rested it there, until she had got all the love she needed. When I left, she gave me a reproachful look over the gate, as if to say: leaving already?

Sometimes the Pigeon gives me the best beloved gaze. Sometimes when I stroke her, she gives a little teddy bear groan of profound pleasure.

The animal love: it’s absolutely blinding.

Then the Younger Niece arrived, so there was human love too. She laughs at every single one of my jokes. She is nineteen, and she is like a dancing ray of sunshine, and when people say they don’t know about the young people of today, I think: I do, and they are perfectly marvellous.

Out in the world, Leveson bashes on. Despite all my political geekery, I have lost interest in it entirely. This may just be post-book exhaustion. Although, politics continues to fascinate me on the other side of the pond. I grow more and more curious to find out what sort of a man Mitt Romney is. Almost no-one seems to know. (Although there is the terrible story about the dog. I know I obsess too much on dogs, but really. A man who puts his canine in a cage on the roof of his car and drives to Canada cannot be quite right.)

The weather continues grey and flat. I squint out at the dirty sky, wondering what we shall do should we ever see serious sun again. There shall certainly be some form of dance.

Not sure if any of this has made any sense. I am going to bed at seven tonight, like a very old lady, so there may be hope of coherence tomorrow.


Quick pictures:

13 June 3

13 June 4

13 June 5

13 June 6

Red’s view has gone crazy with gorse:

13 June 8

13 June 8-001

13 June 9

No wonder she loves to rest her gaze upon it.

The mare:

13 June 1

13 June 1-001

The Pigeon:

13 June 10

The hill:

13 June 15


  1. Absolutely GRAND picture of the Pigeon. And a lovely post, as was yesterday's. Reading about your gentle descent back to earth after the book provides a welcome break from the day.


  2. Politics and politicians will come and go. Love endures.

  3. First time reading your blog. The Pigeon is dearly handsome. I need to find some red poppies now. I had to say about mares though. I don't think they are horrible when they're in season. I feel some empathy for them. They just seem like they are at their extreme ends of normal, to me. I've never had an angel turn into a devil or vice versa. They are just full of themselves, whoever they are to start with. They are just in a different headspace and have different priorities than listening with their full attention unless you ask them to. They aren't automatons so not sure why someone would think they're so unmanagable. They're still just being a horse and being themself, just preoccupied. Mares being in season stopped bothering me when I thoght about it like that. They are paying attention to other things so I need to pay a bit more attention to them, I'm sure I had off days where they wondered what was wrong with me.


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