2291 words today. The sun shone in the morning. I rode my mare. Lovely Rock on Ruby put in an exhibition round at Donny, to book his ticket to Cheltenham. I thought, on and off, all day, of the little HorseBack foal, battling for her life. The clever surgeon and his team at Glasgow are giving it all they have. I do not know if it shall be enough. I wait for news.
There is a lot of kindness about, from people I know and people I do not. I think of how it bolsters one, and how one needs that daily bolstering. When I say one, of course I mean I. One is a Mitfordian distancing device. I sometimes do not wish to admit that I need strokes. I should like to be self-contained, independent of people’s good opinion, cantering away across the Mongolian plains without asking for anything. I have a faint horror of neediness, I have no idea why. It frightens me when I see it in other people, and I do not care for it in myself. But no woman is an island. I suspect that most people sometimes crave a pat on the back or a bit of a compliment or an encouraging word. Perhaps the secret is to learn to like them, but not absolutely need them. So that if there is a day when everyone else is too preoccupied or a bit scratchy or simply thinking of something else, then one may make do, just with oneself. A little bit of island living is not a bad thing.
This is a most terrible mazy wander. I think I did have something pointful and serious to say, but I just ended up vaguely theorising out loud. I suppose that is slightly the point of this blog, but I sometimes wish for a little more sharpness. The brain has gone to mush and I am now going to sit quietly in a room until my cerebral cortex regroups. Which is pretty much what I do every day.
Some pictures from the last week:
My red duchess may look pretty scruffy and woolly and damp, but she is amazingly sanguine, considering the weather she has had to put up with. As always, I am in awe of her goodness and stoicism:
And I bless the glorious Amigo rug which keeps her warm and dry, no matter what the elements throw at her.
Oh Tania, this is exactly what I needed to be told today. I am, for the first time in my professional (def not personal) life, Not Falling Into Line. I keep almost beetling in to my boss and saying that I will do the thing that would make life easy for them but which isn't what I want, as I would usually, because I have discovered I do need the pats. So I have been telling myself that professional set backs (if this is what it becomes) are something that happens to everyone and I need to grow up and deal with it. A bit of island living is indeed good.
ReplyDeleteAnd the Not Falling Into Line is entirely motivated by a slightly troubled chestnut gelding who I have some bonkers half formed dreams about...
Lovely. May I showcase and credit second last tree shot on my bog please Tania? I LOVE it. It looks rather like all the neurons connecting in a brain.
ReplyDeleteI do hope the filly pulls through.
the mare's "beardy whiskers" are inexplicably touching and the picture just above is really really lovely (but then all the others pics are pretty good too!)
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