(With apologies to the spirit of Mrs. Woolf.)
In my last-but-one post I wrote about the gargantuan task of clearing out the top of the barn and laying a new floor over the old one. And I’m glad to report the job is finished, the junk has been cleared, the stairwell down to the stables has been boxed in (and the stairs repaired) and the horses now have a much tidier, dust-free environment.
The knock-on bonus for me is that a grotty, dark, cubby-hole under the stairwell, where we used to stash all the gardening tools and equipment (do plastic plant-pots multiply if left on their own in the dark?) has become my first-ever, dedicated tack room.
Instead of bits and bobs tucked away in cupboards and boxes all over the place and never to hand when you need them, I now have a neat, clean space where everything has its place. And, oh, how very satisfying that is.
(Some of the gardening kit remains behind the curtain, but it has been dusted and put on shelves, promise).
In a world where the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse seem to be riding ever closer each time you can bear to be beaten over the head by the news reports, sometimes the only way to keep sane is to organise and feel in control your own little corner of the planet. There must be a psychological term for it. Cocooning? OCD? Any suggestions…?
And as the weather cools and the sunshine sparkles as it did around 10 this morning – the clocks having gone back last night – we are getting into the right frame of mind to make the most of the cooler season.
The Pie, at 28, is under strict surveillance for signs of ageing that we can relieve in any way. As his main problem is a touch of arthritis in his hips and shoulders, he is presently undertaking the Cucurma Challenge. Having followed discussions on various forums and read scientific data, we decided to go with a gradually increasing tea to coffee-spoonful of turmeric, with a few twists of freshly ground black pepper and a good glug of omega-rich oil mixed into his usual ration of pelleted grain with apples and carrots (and figs – we have also just come to the end of fig season to the great regret of the horses).
So far, after about a month, his mobility is good, but not miraculously improved, however the most noticeable side-effect is ….. you can guess ….
Of course, Mr. Matinee Idol had to get his picture taken too once he spotted the camera.
So this is a time of farewells. The tourists and the flies (no relation) have largely disappeared with the excessive heat – yay! Ice-cream is out (but chocolate is in) treat-wise. Sandals, shorts, suntan cream (yuck) are thankfully back in the cupboard, and the garden furniture is being put away.
And when these guys fly over, crying “grue, grue” (which is French for crane – both the avian and construction varieties) and my birthday is just around the corner, we know it’s time to buckle down to winter with a relieved sigh.
Just about ….. gone. Au revoir!