A snapshot of a day. On account of there being too much work and too little time.

Too much to do; not enough hours in the day.

But there were 1527 new words written, HorseBack work done, and a joyful ride on the red mare. She is in her high Zen mode, so soft and calm and relaxed it makes me want to shout for joy. Something has changed, and we have gone into a whole new realm of loveliness.

The Sister came to the field this morning, and observed the sweet horse, and she too smiled and smiled, even though she is going through some fairly fraught life changes. For a moment, nothing mattered but the bright sun and the good earth and this enchanting, kind equine.

As I rushed off to do my work, I wound down the window of the car and called: ‘Thank you for admiring my mare.’ That is worth more than diamonds to me.

Meanwhile, Stanley the Dog has his own heavy work-load. He is on full bluebottle patrol. He barks at them, growls at them, leaps about the house trying to catch them, and snaps at them with crocodile jaws. The fuckers will rue the day.

Then, as you can see from the pictures, he is so exhausted he has to flake out in the sun.

 

Today’s pictures:

My mother asked me to make an arrangement from the garden for the nurses who looked after her so well in hospital. I was quite pleased with them:

Flaked-out Stanley the Dog, after his bluebottle work was done:

Although he woke up the moment he sensed one more:

And then crashed out again:

A couple of days ago I was having such an intense conversation with my brother and sister that I let the mare off the rope so she could explore the garden while we talked. I suspect this kind of thing is not in the BHS rulebook:

Hmm. Not sure about that wild rose:

Thanks. Seen enough now. I know you are busy, but you really should think about doing those edges:

And here she is, getting the love from the brother and sister:

Raindrops on the cotinus:

Our glorious blue hills, shimmering in the sun:

More happy walking.

Another delightful family walk. The Older Niece sets off south first thing tomorrow, so it was our last walk with her, which is always a sadness. The Older Brother was not with us since he has gone off to run the ten kilometre race at Lumphanan. It’s the kind of thing he does. But his Best Beloved came with, and I gave The Sister charge of the red mare, and all the dogs were going crazy playing stick games, and it was very, very sweet.

The taking of the horses for a walk is considered a rather eccentric thing, although it seems perfectly natural to me. The Horse Talker and I started it when one or other of the mares was off riding from a muscle strain or a stone bruise. We took them out in hand to stretch their legs with no weight on their backs. The horses seemed to find it amazingly calming and relaxing, and we loved it too, so often now we just do it for fun.

Afterwards, I got up on Red and had a bit of a pipe-opener, and then a very dear contemporary of The Younger Niece came to have a ride on her. They went beautifully together and it gives me a huge amount of pleasure that I can offer this good horse to someone else to enjoy. So my lovely red girl gave an awful lot of delight all round today.

I’m giving myself another couple of festive days off, but small shoots of new ideas are growing, growing, in my head. Another secret project may be on the verge of arrival. I find myself rather excited at the thought.

 

Today’s pictures:

Wild stick action:

The special walk:

I sometimes think she does actually pose for the camera:

Here is The Visiting Rider. The very touching thing is that we have all known this rider since she was a tiny girl, on account of her being childhood friends with The Younger Niece. Now she is all grown-up, and wonderful to watch on a horse. She and the red mare had a lot of fun:

Day in pictures

In terms of quality, these are not the best photographs I have ever taken, but there is a sort of sweetness and joy in them which is perfect for the end of a long week.

Stanley the Dog with his small friend:

Morning sheep:

Mist over the hill:

I don’t know what this was, but I rather like it; a little bit of abstract for you:

This one is slightly out of focus, but I love the nobility:

The red mare is still a bit tender in her shoulder, so we are taking her for gentle morning walks. I completely love it, as you can see from my delirious expression. In fact, The Horse Talker leads her own filly, and I take Red and Stanley, but here I am managing all three in order for the photograph to be taken. Quite a lot of complicated rope action:

More happiness:

What we walked past:

At this stage, she was posing for the camera:

This one is completely blurry, but I wanted to include it because it expresses well the joy in this simple morning exercise:

Also, how amazingly good and clever is Red, just standing on command like that, with her rope over her shoulder? It’s the kind of thing which makes me hysterically proud. Stand, stand, I say seriously, and move off about ten feet, and she DOES NOT MOVE A HOOF.

At this stage, there will be those of you who are saying enough with the red mare. I give you full permission to bash off and read something interesting about psephology or horticulture. It’s a Friday, and I can’t have enough of this beautiful face:

One final bit of sweetness. The Horse Talker is pointing to try and get Red to prick her ears and pose for the photograph. We have absolutely no idea what Autumn the Filly is doing, but it’s very funny:

Really am stopping now.

I’ve written THOUSANDS of words this week and my head is about to come off. I’m going to take the whole weekend for resting; no HorseBack, no blog, no book. I’m going to watch the racing at Newmarket and mooch about with my lovely girl and throw sticks for Stanley the Dog and let my mind go slack. At the moment, it is tight as a drum. I am going to take a big old breath and let everything settle.

Sunday pictures

A very long and very lovely games weekend. Far too tired to write anything, but there is just time for a couple of pictures.

This one made me laugh. It sums up entirely the difference between my two animals. Red, despite being in the middle of doing some work, is virtually asleep. Stanley the Dog has his eager, antic, whizz-about face on. It makes me laugh and laugh:

Red also has a sweet new friend. The new friend has had to sell her own horse on account of being away at university, so I offered her Red to ride whenever she is at home in Scotland. They are already having the most lovely time together. It is very touching:

And possibly the other most sweet thing was that today, as the family gathered for lunch on the lawn, the great-nieces did a display of highland dancing for us. They are really, really good:

The other person who possibly had the best time of all of us was the glorious dog of The Older Niece. She is very fond of her life in the south, but there are no burns for her to swim in where she lives. Here she is, about to go in, waiting for an attentive audience:

Which she duly got:

And a very quick taste of the dear old games:

The prize of patience; or, I feel very slightly bogus, but extremely happy and pleased.

Two of my lovely relations are staying, one grown-up, one small. The small relation has, to my great delight, decided that Stanley the Dog is a canine of immense quality and loveliness. She was asked to do a sample of her handwriting yesterday. She wrote, very neatly and well on a piece of white paper: ‘I like Stanley. I like Stanley. I like Stanley.’

This morning, along with The Mother and Stepfather, they came to see the Red the Mare. I gave them all a little demonstration of groundwork.

I always feel a bit bogus when I do this. The kind of horsemanship I practice is a variation on what is called natural horsemanship or intelligent horsemanship or empathic horsemanship, and I’m still pretty new at it. I grew up in the old school, and this is all quite novel to me.

I don’t follow one specific method, but have picked and mixed from the various books and videos I have found. The three men whose theories I like most are Monty Roberts, Warwick Schiller and Mark Rashid. All of these new schools share a pretty basic foundational idea: you should try to communicate politely with the equine in horse, rather than literally or metaphorically yelling at it in human.

There are two central tenets to which I cleave. One is, always ask the horse, rather than tell it. Every question is an invitation. I sometimes imagine I am in a quadrille, holding out my hand to my partner. When the mare is responding softly it does feel very like a dance. The other is: reward the try. Even the slightest move in the direction asked is rewarded with lavish love and scratches. I never wait for her to do something perfectly before congratulating her.

There are other, wider, more abstract notions. I base everything I do with her on gentleness, firmness, patience, consistency, clarity. If something goes wrong, my assumption is that it is my fault. I don’t use the word naughty to refer to a horse any more. I think: unclear human rather than mischievous horse.

When I say I feel a bit bogus showing people all this, it is because none of these ideas are mine. I’ve taken them and adapted them and learnt from Red what works and what does not. She is really my finest professor. But there I am, sounding like I am a gnarled old hand who came up with this stuff on the back of an envelope.

Still, I like the lovely relations to see it. I do feel proud of the mare, who has learnt so much so quickly, and who is so willing and clever and trusting. The other thing which is enchanting is that people really are quite amazed and impressed. She is a thoroughbred, after all, out of racing and polo, and the rumour is that there is nothing more impossible to work with. (The rumour is wrong, but it dies hard.)

Because I do this work with her every day, I sometimes take it a bit for granted that she walks kindly on a loose rope and stops when I stop and will back up when I nod at her shoulder. She will match her paces exactly to mine; if I walk faster she picks up, if I go at a snail’s crawl, she shuffles slowly alongside. When people watch it, I see afresh, through their eyes, what miracles she has achieved.

It’s very simple, in many ways. All the things I do with her are so basic a child of ten could master them. In other ways, it’s absolutely astonishing and profound, to get that level of trust and harmony with a flight animal.

And it’s not just spurious circus tricks. It means that when I get on her, there is no uncertainty or hesitation or fear. I can ride her in a rope halter with no irons and the bond is so forged in fire that there is only a singing feeling of delight between us. The days of the knee-jerk spook and - her speciality when spotting an unexpected pheasant - the vertical leap three feet in the air with sideways Spanish Riding School of Vienna passage, are long gone.

What it really means, when no one is watching, when I’m not showing off or getting a picture taken for posterity, is that everything we do together is a high pleasure. Everything is easy now. She is happy, I am happy. There is no tension or doubt. We know each other and love each other and understand each other.

Someone said: ‘Goodness, that must have taken a lot of patience.’ Yes, it did, I suppose. But it was more worth it than almost anything else I’ve ever done. It was the tiniest, tiniest price for the most glittering of glittering prizes.

 

Today’s pictures:

The garden, suddenly, almost overnight, is in flower. Which is very kind of it, since I have shamefully neglected the whole thing on account of too much work and too much horsing:

Down in the paddock, in the very slightly crazed obstacle course we have set up, the Horse Talker gets going on Autumn the Filly:

The obstacles are partly to build trust, partly to desensitise, so that when we strike out through the woods and over the hills, the girls will have encountered so many different strange things that not much will faze them:

This item has BELLS on it. The Remarkable Trainer says she will have to go back to the drawing board to find something that will startle this mare:

Over the tarp like it was nothing:

Round the tyres:

Meanwhile, Myfanwy is sleeping:

Red the Mare, with me up:

(Holding the reins up like that is because I’m trying to use them hardly at all, but steer with my body and my seat.)

No irons, no reins, maximum joy:

And, my gracious duchess, shall we go this way? Yes, we shall:

I like Stanley. I like Stanley. I like Stanley: