Thursday, 14 June 2012

Not many words

Posted by Tania Kindersley.

Feeling very achy and old-ladyish today. If I were back in my old life, I should have taken, groaning, to my bed, with an official dose of post-book stress. The thing about having a horse is that you can’t be ill. You can’t have a hangover, either. I mean, I can, and sometimes do, but I still have to get up and go and see to her. I can’t ring her up and call in sick.

The other interesting thing is that whilst I was with her, the aches and pains were forgotten. I even went for a ride, and she was on her toes today, so I let her gallop to get the twinkles out of her toes. She went bloody fast. I’m amazed she was such a useless racehorse. She felt like an Oaks winner to me.

Then, she was so dopey and dear on the ground that I think I got a massive shot of endorphins. Once I got home, I was all grumpy and groany again.

I diverted myself by backing four winners at the afternoon races. This is my special finishing manuscript treat: I watch the ponies on William Hill TV. It is a quite absurd indulgence, and I adore it.

Anyway, long and short is: fingers too crabbed to type. So here are some pictures for you:

14 June 1

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14 June 8

When I went up this evening, there was a ray of sunshine, and in its warmth, Red was dozing, gazing out calmly to the west:

14 June 10

I adore her evening face. She does not do this in the morning:

14 June 11

This is what she was staring at:

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And the equally lovely Pigeon face:

14 June 15

The hill:

14 June 20


  1. Good lord, the countryside around where you live is gorgeous.

    And good lord, does it look like someone takes good care of that horse. ;-)

    Pigeon is always a delight.


  2. You are surrounded by beauty, the breathing and the breathtaking.

    Will you be book touring? Come to the states?

    xo jane

  3. What beautiful faces. And that view! Surely a tonic in itself. :)

  4. Being sole owner of a horse must be rather like having a small child utterly dependent on one, as there are no sick days and holidays with that commitment either. Dogs are somewhat different, I have found, as if I curl up and snooze and look/smell/act poorly, then The Dog stays close by and cuts all his demands down to the bare mininum. It's that thing of the pack going at the pace of the slowest, I think.

  5. I can just about see the faeries in that wooded glade...


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