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?’
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.