Category: Blog

Enough now – or I WILL emigrate

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It’s official, I have definitely turned in to a grumpy old bag. The snow was bad enough, but the incessant rain and wind through March really has had me reaching for my old school atlas, wondering where I should move to.

All in all it has been a pretty unsatisfactory few weeks. George was kept in 24/7 as the fields were prepared for Burnham Market International, so became ever more explosive with each ride. The horse that used to be happy to have a helicopter land in his field suddenly decided that on no account could he pass either a digger or even a parked land rover without making a song and dance – or should that be snort and dance. The sooner he can get back out in the field the better.

Most of the month involved being stuck in front of my computer writing article after article for my forthcoming events. I was lured out of my lair to try out a new restaurant in Burnham Market but I won’t name it because we won’t be going there again. The highlight, however, was another tick on my bucket list – a trip to Stratford-upon-Avon to see some Shakespeare.

I drove over earlier in the day, so as to have time to visit both Shakespeare’s birthplace and his grave. What a fabulous town, I will be going back for sure. Having my own, 1-1 Macbeth rendition from a very talented (and admittedly very easy on the eye) actor was an experience I will never forget, as was walking round the house where my favourite author was born and spent his early years. Incredible.

I’d found a fantastic place to stay, 5 minutes walk from pretty much everything – including the theatre where I met up with Catherine to see Macbeth, starring Christopher Eccleston and Niamh Cusack. In all honesty, she was better than him – his acting was good, but delivery less so (though maybe my mind was still on my afternoon’s encounter!). For me, however, Michael Hodgson stole the show as the porter. All in all it was a thoroughly enjoyable 36 hours.

The month wrapped up with Burnham Market International – fortunately my newly painted land rover was returned to me just in time. Night one I met Charlotte for supper – she supposedly had two horses running with Harry Meade, and then there was the annual Trevor & Lorna invasion. We got through the first two days OK, but the heavens opened again on the Friday night, and for the first time ever (this event has run since 1998) we had to abandon on Saturday morning, before the international classes got to jump. The team had worked through the night, moving fences and preparing take offs and landings but to no avail. Gutting.

Peering down the slippery slope

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February has been a funny old month, and not really one I want to repeat – though looking back, my February 2017 blog is entitled February Blues so I think perhaps this is normal.

It started with a trip to Sussex where I spent the night before Alan‘s funeral with friends. That was obviously a delight; sadly the following day wasn’t – for all sorts of reasons. Too many people I know have been having a tough time lately, I wish I had a crystal ball to see what lies ahead.

So, leaving all that behind, work has been super-busy. I’m almost tempted to count up the number of words I have written in the last 4 weeks – but might faint with exhaustion if I did. If only some of them were on my barely started novel, but that is again on the back burner.

I have, however, finally caught up with things like painting the stairs, clearing the garage (the car is now under cover for the first time since I inherited it) and steam cleaning the kitchen floor tiles – that’s 4 hours of my life I won’t get back. On the basis that I have no plans to do it again any time soon I have invested in a huge rug which now covers most of the tiles.

I’ve even done a fair bit of walking, including a lovely stomp along Thornham beach with Henry (Musketeer top commentator/ controller) and the very cute Stiltyman before a quick dip into The Lifeboat for ‘refreshments’, and a marathon 10k walk along the coastal path from Wells to Morston with Andrew (owner of Shanty), culminating in a delicious lunch at The Anchor.

Norfolk very much had her best clothes on for both occasions – hard to believe as I look out at several feet of snow – the lane is buried by drifts deeper than I am tall. I am already starting to go stir crazy and think I will be snow bound several days yet. Shame I failed to get provisions in!

Before the arrival of ‘The Beast’ there were some fun dinners, Lulu’s birthday lunch, and the Musketeer Events volunteers party. With just 4 weeks until Burnham Market International I feel very much on the slippery slope (no ski-ing pun intended…). Is it too soon to say ‘roll on October?’

Yabber Yabber Yabber

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After such a sad end to 2017, 2018 started in dramatic style when half way round a hack on New Year’s Day George suddenly went hopping lame – literally could barely put one of his hind legs on the ground. We were in the middle of nowhere, but fortunately not alone – Sarah was a great phone call interceptor as I blubbed into George’s mane thinking the worst. It was a very long, slow hobble back to the yard, arriving as the vet pulled in.

Total mystery. A good dose of bute and the next day he was absolutely fine. I can only think that he must have trapped a nerve, and then untrapped it. He has now reverted to retard status, belying his 21 years and making me hold on tight! Blummin horses.

I seem to have clocked up a few miles since New Year’s Day, starting with a trip to Wiltshire to interview Jane Holderness-Roddam for BHS Magazine. What a delight – I spent a very happy couple of hours at her kitchen table whilst she regaled me with wonderful stories from 50 years ago.

The following day I met up with new web client Flora Harris, for a WordPress lesson, before heading to Charlotte & Pete’s for the weekend. Charlotte pulled out all the stops with a great dinner party on the Saturday followed by a big lunch on the Sunday, filled with old friends of mine. Her boys were there too (boys? they are in their 20s) and my godson had me in stitches. It was a perfect 4 days.

I ventured down to London shortly after, for a feast of tapas with Hils (Chateau Bonkers chatelaine) and then met up with Clare (of Shanty the Highland cow fame) for more food, wine and the theatre. We saw a play called Beginning, on now at the Ambassadors Theatre – and if you get a chance to go, take it.

No sooner was I back in Norfolk than my best friend from school arrived for the weekend. Even more chat marathons. And then to Scotland…. although this was work, brainstorming ideas with a couple of clients. By the time I got home I was totally talked out.

The month wrapped up with some fun flying (yep, I can still land successfully) and the Musketeer Events christmas party – dinner at The Duck, Stanhoe. Truly delicious and huge fun. My ‘quiet time’ doesn’t feel to have been all that quiet…

A sad end to the year

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December started with a celebration – a fantastic lunch with my very old friend and fixed wing flying instructor, Alan and his (albeit unofficial at this stage) ‘intended’, Liz. It was a perfect day – both because I haven’t seen him that happy since before he lost his wife to cancer 15 years ago, but also because he had (finally) fallen on his feet big time with a perfect match (I know, despite protestations, I’m a romantic at heart and love it when I’m proved right!).

From there it was on to Norway. Seeing the Northern Lights has long been on the bucket list of both me and another old friend, Katie. What I hadn’t expected was the breathtaking beauty of the country – which you can only see in the all-too-short days (it was pitch dark by 1.30pm which took a bit of getting used to).

Every single Norwegian we met was charming, and yes… we did see them. Incredible! The snow was knee deep, the views spectacular and we also saw moose and reindeer, which was a bonus.

We booked through a fantastic new company run by Magnus and Anders. They have a big, glass walled room at the ‘Observatory’ so you can stay toasty warm, drinking coffee and chatting (albeit in darkness so as not to miss what might be starting) while you wait for the lights to appear, at which point you pile on layers of clothes and dash outside. I thoroughly recommend these guys and might well return in a couple of years when they have built accommodation on their farm (we stayed at a hotel in town). Find out more here.

No major excitements after that until my birthday, which was spent with Growler and included a scrumptious lunch at The Duck in Stanhoe. A few more suppers and drinks (fell off the waggon totally!), some murderous work out classes and a wonderfully quiet christmas followed, before the crushing news that Alan had suffered a fatal heart attack less than 3 weeks after our lunch.

The wind has very much been taken out of my sails.

The waggon has a wobbly wheel

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November was wonderfully relaxed – despite the fact I have added an hour long 1 to 1 torture session with Action Dave in to my Fridays. For some inexplicable reason I have decided that I need to crack the art of doing press-ups, something I have never been able to do before now, even when young and lithe! He asssures me it will be a piece of cake – I’ll let you know next month, I have set a christmas day deadline.

I’ve been out to far too many suppers for someone trying to be predominantly on the waggon, and am now an expert on which non-alcoholic wines are drinkable and which deserve only to be poured down the sink (for the record, I recommend Rawsons Retreat – not exactly Latour or Margaux but drinkable). I have also discovered non-alcoholic, calorie free ‘gin’. OK, so it doesn’t taste like Hendrick’s, but it does taste like a ‘proper’ drink and I think it’s delicious – made by Seedlip it comes in two versions; spicy and christmassy, and my favourite, ‘garden’ which is lovely and ‘green’ tasting…

Mid-month I made my annual autumn pilgrimage to Kent where the usual suspects were on top form – no chance of not drinking there. As ever it was non-stop delicious food, fresh air, great conversation, fine wines and lots of laughing.

I got some flying in, and up until almost the end of the month George was in fine fettle – he even made it very clear to me that he wanted to do some cross country jumping… basically, whilst on a hack, by planting his hooves next to the field with the jumps in, doing a very smart ‘turn on the forehand’ (horse speak for swivelling round a front leg to be facing in a different direction – in this case in to the field) and refusing to move until I concurred. It was seriously good fun. I’m not sure which of us was smiling more by the end.

Unfortunately a couple of weeks later he managed to colic (tummy ache, which if left unattended can have serious – if not fatal – consequences). By total chance I was on the yard at the time and noticed something very slightly amiss early on (the first sign was him turning his nose up at a polo… George refusing food rings immediate alarm bells). Fortunately, the wonderful Diana from Anchorage Barn Equine Vets, was soon on hand (he was getting worse with alarming speed) and after she had administered pain relief and syphoned half a bucket full of parafin into his stomach via his nose all turned out fine… although he was not impressed by his 48 hours with no hay and only small, very sloppy feeds.

My main work outing was to Ros Canter‘s, where we were meeting with a potential new sponsor. All looks good and we should have things signed and sealed by Christmas. More on that in due course. So now it’s time to pack and head to the sub-zero climes of Norway…. seeing the aurora borealis has been on my bucket list for decades. Fingers crossed.

Food glorious food

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With work commitments significantly lighter now my event season is over I appear to be turning in to a domestic goddess. I’ve rustled up a full monty Sunday lunch and even baked a cake – both firsts since I moved to Norfolk 6 years ago; hard to believe I was once a ‘proper’ cook (yes, I do have a certificate to prove it!). While on the subject of food, Shucks in Thornham, a very cosy yurt with a roaring fire, is my new favourite place for breakfast. Their Huevos Rancheros is to die for, the copious amount of chilli a perfect cure for autumn snuffles.

The house is being cleaned to within an inch of its life and some chair covers I started making more than 2 years ago are nearing completion. I just wish the light didn’t fade so quickly now – putting the garden to bed gets curtailed ever-earlier with each passing day… One of the benefits of going ‘on the waggon’ (shall I pause as you pick yourselves off the floor? Don’t worry, it won’t last for ever) is the unleashing of new-found energy – well, it’s either that or my endless boot camp sessions are finally paying off.

On the work front there was good news for three of our web clients with the publication of the October FEI World Rider Rankings, most notably for Ros Canter who has climbed up to 6th place. Oliver Townend finishes the month in 11th, and Piggy French 12th.

The best fun last month was undoubtedly a trip to London with Growler. She, perhaps ill-advisedly, enlisted my help on a shopping mission, and I actually rather enjoyed sitting in splendour in a large armchair, while two young assistants (who looked like they should still be at school) trotted back and forth from shop floor to changing room as I gesticulated towards various clothes rails. G tried on dress after dress only for me to say ‘No, looks like you are on the Starship Enterprise’ or ‘No, much too much like a bridesmaid’, let alone ‘too long’, ‘too short’, ‘too green’ etc… the poor thing, I must have battered her in to trying on about 25 dresses, the dodgy ones invariably part of my selection! I just wish I’d taken photos 😉

From the West End we went on to Shakespeare’s Globe, via a delicious dinner at The Swan (I thoroughly recommend this place, even if you aren’t going to the theatre). I’d been super-efficient buying really good seats, and they were worth every penny. King Lear is one of my favourite plays (it was my A Level Shakespeare text) and the performance was brilliant.

Another Growler date was a trip to Northants for her confirmation. I have to admit that the only church doors I’ve darkened in recent months have been funeral related, so it was a pleasant change not to have to fill my pockets with hankies… although, on the basis that the very charming Bishop took great delight in flicking water over large chunks of the congregation, some folk probably did need something absorbent.

The service was followed by the biggest Sunday lunch I think I have ever consumed, at The George in Stamford. Gosh, October really does seem to have revolved around food – best climb on those scales, it could be ugly.

Done and dusted

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After the excitement of Burghley, life became temporarily rather quiet – just endless admin-type things, and getting the wonderful Harry over to work his magic using drills and hammers. I might be able to drive a chainsaw, but a drill is a whole different ball game (I think it’s the rawl plug issue).

I popped down to Blenheim for a couple of days to give Catherine Austen a hand in the Media Centre. It’s years since I’ve been and what a great event it is. Very excitingly, given the layout I was let loose with a ‘stretch’ golf buggy… I last drove a golf buggy on a caribbean island 18 years ago and they are no less fun than I remember. Our team won the Friday night quiz, there is some embarrassing video footage of me on the dance floor (but I didn’t spill my wine), and when Catherine and I got back to our digs each night, dinner parties (and consequent refreshment) were in full flow… it is all rather a blur.

I then slipped in a nostalgic trip to Cambridge. I spent a lot of time there back in the day, and it was great to walk around familiar haunts and see again what a beautiful city it is. It also entailed a very entertaining meal with an old friend… you had to be there really, but take it from me, frascati rarely travels well.

On the horse trials front there was just one to go – and it was full on. Osberton Young Event Horse Championships. I’d not been before, and there were something like 500 event horses on site. As one of the ‘Best Dressed’ judges at the 3-day-event classes horse inspection I can vouch for the fact that watching 240 horses trot up and down, whilst critiquing their riders kit with ‘official’ judges Andrew and Clem from Hiho Silver, became suitably hilarious and irreverent. And no, it wasn’t my idea to have a prize for the tightest trousers.

Catherine paid me back with a couple of days helping out at the weekend, joining me in the luxurious setting of the Travel Lodge at Blyth, while Trevor & Lorna did sterling work in the field, taking photos of MM clients.

And then, it was over! No more horse trials for me until the very end of March. Hippy happy days. Time to start putting the garden to bed and de-toxing my liver.

Gold medals and golden eagles

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August passed in a whirlwind, but fortunately not all work-related – most noteworthy was my annual trip to Fealar, this time falling immediately ahead of Blair.

It remains breathtakingly beautiful, although we had rather less sunshine than last year. Not only did I discover that the coat I had taken wasn’t waterproof, I also very nearly disappeared into a peat bog – fortunately there was a strapping young man close at hand who caught me and pulled me out. The highlight of my, as ever abbreviated, stay (due to Blair commitments), was again seeing the golden eagles, as well as half a dozen stag less than 50 meters away. My last night there was after everyone else had left – to be alone in the most remote lodge in the British Isles was fabulous.

The only drawback was that I was in the Highlands (with no phone/internet/tv) during the European Championships. I hared in to Pitlochry on the final day to catch up with the live stream, courtesy of the Atholl Palace Hotel, for the last few showjumping rounds…. and was delighted to see Oliver and Ros collect their team gold medals.

On to Blair, which was great fun. I had two new team members keeping me on the straight and narrow, Sue Polley and Molly Shepherd-Boden, who both worked their socks off. We had a few excitements, starting with an unexpected overnight (and unknown) visitor in our static caravan on the first night – I’m not sure who was more surprised at 6am the following morning. That rather set the tone for the week…

After 48 hours in Norfolk it was time for Burghley. I was definitely dribbling by this stage, but the joy of Burghley is staying with ‘Growler’. It’s almost impossible to believe that exactly a year ago, the day I turned up, she had been diagnosed with the Big C. Twelve months on, and currently the picture of health, she was in celebratory mood and we planned a picnic with Manners Media’s Trevor & Lorna.

The sky had been blue, the temperature balmy… until we set out to the cars to extract said picnic. Thunder crashed, lightning crackled and the rain came down. Net result – a very funny, rather cramped supper in the car… the mirth continuing back at base, aided by a bottle of Toffee Vodka 🙂

Burghley was fabulous – more so than ever because Manners Media clients posted a 1-2. Oliver took his second title (the last one 8 years ago), finishing a couple of points ahead of Piggy, for whom the runner up spot was a best Burghley result so far. Totally deserved results and I have yet to stop smiling.

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks…*

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(* with apologies to Shakespeare for stealing)

Life has been a little dull of late. It’s all very well having a ‘quiet time’ from work, but when the strong winds blow and the sun takes itself off to…. well…. sunnier climes, the net result is a rather grumpy me.

I only got airborne three times in July, and one of those occasions was suitably buttock clenching, practicing cross wind landings – all other attempts, including to start aerobatics lessons, have been thwarted. The early morning checks of the aviation forecasts to assess if a trip to Kent to fly with my godson have so far all resulted in a text from me to him saying ‘not today, fingers crossed for tomorrow’.

Instead it’s been a case of windswept gardening, soggy hacks, and tortuous (often also both windswept and soggy) boot camp sessions. The highlight of the month turns out to be work related, which I’m sure shouldn’t be the case… I was asked to write a piece for the Burghley Horse Trials programme, which necessitated me going to Burghley HQ and rifling through all the old programmes back to 1961. Absolutely fascinating – to think that whilst today the gentlest of tumbles onto the ground means elimination…. in 1961 a horse could fall 4 times before a rider was given his marching orders!

But I almost forgot – another serious highlight… three Manners Media clients have been selected for the European Championships in a couple of weeks time. I am so chuffed for Oliver Townend, Piggy French and Ros Canter – Trevor Holt is going to have his work cut out keeping up with those three.

With so little to report, the month concluded with a really fun evening in a new Burnham Market restaurant, 20 North Street, courtesy of Shanty the Highland cow’s owner. The food was melt-in-the-mouth delicious and the gang of people round the table wonderful company.

So now I have 3 weeks to go before Blair, and the next eventing-dominated onslaught… Blair, Burghley, Blenheim and Osberton. Yikes.

Turning back time

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I have to admit that Cher is one of my least favourite singers – I spent an inordinate amount of time in 1998 reaching for my radio’s OFF button whenever ‘Believe’ assaulted my senses (number 2 in my Top 10 most hated songs, behind ‘Grandma we love you’), but she popped in to my head when I started to think about this blog. June has been bursting with reunions, meeting friends I’ve not seen for 30 years or more. I almost felt that ‘I could turn back time’.

I’m getting ahead of myself – much of this was in the second half of the month and, whilst work has been a little quieter than of late, I have achieved a long-held goal…. I can insert AND remove (the latter was even more alarming) a contact lens. Having sporadically and unsuccessfully attempted to do this for the last 12 months, I met the very patient Jack who got me through… now I just need to work out where my legs are, on the basis that I only put a lens in one eye (so I can do computer work, whilst the other remains great on long distance)… it is still a little disorientating. So if I LOOK drunk, of course I am NOT (although I wouldn’t be able to pass the Man With Two Brains Drunk Test, with or without said lens).

So, one life-goal achieved it was time for another – a trip to Shakespeare’s Globe. Sadly my companion for Romeo & Juliet was poorly, but heartlessly it didn’t stop me loving it (Shakespeare does it for me every time). I actually fell back in love with London, which I never expected to say… walking along the Thames, round St Paul’s, over the Millennium Bridge, on a perfect sunny summer’s day. The play itself was beyond brilliant and the building lived up to all my expectations which, let’s face it, is rare. I even managed to tie in tapas with Louise (of broken back fame – previous blog) and her daughters.

It was also the time of year when I had to do an hour’s flight with an instructor (makes sure we don’t pick up bad habits). Despite having been an instructor for the best part of 10 years I still suffer from ‘instructoritis’, but Howard is a legend and I had huge fun running through all the emergencies, forced landings etc. Always good to practise those, and seemingly I’m ‘the full package’ as a pilot – I think that was a compliment!

Work was all about Blaston Show, which was as good as ever. I’d spent the previous night with the lovely Jackson family, tagging along to a local 40th birthday party. With a big day and early start looming I was walked home ahead of Ben, Kit and ‘dancing queen’ Hellen by the youngest – Felix – who escorted me safely through a large graveyard as the most direct route.

Not only was Blaston Show fabulous, it was bursting with old and lost friends – one so ‘lost’ that at first he didn’t recognise me – until I muttered ‘dinner party, the Bartons, Shrewton, late 1980s’… yep, it was that memorable! I love that, with all of them, 10 seconds after recognition the years melted away – the same can be said of finally catching up with the White Rabbit interloper… I’m not a Whovian (fan of Dr Who) but time travel is a wonderful and mysterious thing. Actually, I’m being serious, the concept of ‘time’ is my latest investigative project…

So the month ended well. Steve, the mole catcher, lived up to his reputation – there was a trebling of mole hills within 12 hours of Leigh setting a trap, talk about flicking the Vs, and my nephew Tom and his partner came to stay last weekend, the first time the three of us have ever been together unrelated to someone dying. Seriously restorative.