Tag: Osberton

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.

Exciting news on the work front

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BeachJanuary got off to a bad start – I won’t bore you with the details but strongly advise anyone against ever shopping at Currys Online. I lost count of the hours I wasted on hold, simply trying to talk to someone in order to get my new but faulty cooker returned. I never did get to talk to them, but fortunately Zanussi sent a charming man who made it work, and they weren’t rude enough to charge me for the privilege.

Things improved when I was asked to take on the press officer role for both Belton and Osberton International Horse Trials. Belton is very much in my old stomping ground – I used to live about 4 miles away, and it has always been a favourite event of mine. Osberton I’ve not been to for a while, but with so many ‘age’ championships I’m pretty sure that I will have my work cut out.

I nipped over to the BEDE offices for a meeting with the team, so took the opportunity to stay the previous night with Mark & Tanya Kyle, who have been firm friends since I bought George from them 14 years ago. I hadn’t been to Cripwell Farm for ages and the changes were amazing – it has to be one of the most beautifully designed rider homes in the country (all due to Tanya), and I slept in a super-smart little flat that is available for clients who are staying for a few days of training.

I made the most of my time in the Midlands with a flying visit to Rockingham Castle to see Andrew Norman and run through my To Do list – and have subsequently been uber-efficient drafting plans for pretty much every social media post and press release that I am expecting to write between now and October. That’s a first.

We’ve had some hilarious meetings at Musketeer, most notably with the East Anglian Air Ambulance (our official charity for 2017) who took our invitation to ‘think outside the box’ literally. I look forward to welcoming camels to our little corner of North Norfolk come April.

Away from work, Emily (Lochore) rang me one Sunday morning with an invitation to ride on the beach. George might be 20, but you wouldn’t have guessed it as he almost cantered up the ramp, neighing as he went. Now I have no transport he hadn’t seen the sea for a couple of years, and it was the perfect day for it. The only downside is that he was so full of beans on the lorry that he managed to literally destroy the top of his tail which is now embarrassingly bald!

Less happy was the trip to Sussex for the funeral of a childhood friend’s father. Charlotte & I were in the Pony Club together, shared houses at college, and a million other memories. Her father was a lovely man, a doctor – my lasting memory of him is from years ago when she and I were off to Greece and he chased me round their garden armed with an injection that I patently didn’t want to be given. It was the first – and will probably be the last – funeral I attend where the final piece of music was the Welsh National Anthem, Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau, recorded at the Millennium Stadium when packed to the rafters with Welsh rugby supporters. Unforgettable and brilliant.