It’s my birthday today. We’re still in lock down, with the distinct possibility of it being extended to 6 weeks. I have too many eggs. Seriously. Even having 4 this morning (my eggs aren’t that big) for breakfast… still leaves me with 12, and I haven’t had the ones they’ll lay today yet. Add another 2-3 to the ones I got. And another 2-3 tomorrow… I’m extremely remote, so no one comes by. Next time I hear the post woman, I will attempt to ask if she’d be willing to take at least 6 of them to pass on to someone who may be struggling. No idea if that’ll work, but hey. Worth a try. I also emailed the church, even though I’m not a religious or churchy person. In fact, I want nothing to do with the catholic church myself — but they do look after vulnerable people. So I asked if they’d like the extra eggs, if I drop them off at the church, and if they do, to also let me know if there is anything they are desperate for, that I can add to my shopping list next time I need to shop. We can all do a little bit and make life easier for people. Doesn’t have to be much, but just asking (even through the door, or by leaving a note) if the neighbor needs anything will help. Here in France, there are many elderly people living on their own. France is very big on keeping people out of retirement homes for as long as possible, provided they are not in any danger of neglect. But at times like this, that makes them quite vulnerable. And lonely. The children may have moved a long way away, and can’t travel to look after the parents. So they are left to their own devices, being looked after as best as possible, when there is already a strain on everything. There are also younger people who struggle, let’s not forget that either. One of my worries is that, with the schools closed and people confined at home, there will be many people in dangerous domestic situations, exposed to abusive partners or parents, with no way to escape. So keep your eyes and ears open and report it if you suspect abuse.
Personally, I’m very grateful to a friend of mine, Justin Shaper, who came by two weeks ago to chop up my wood — because that’s what’s keeping me warm right now. I’d have been struggling without that, because it’s been so very wet all winter, the pile outside is…soaked. Every bit of paper or cardboard is hoarded to start the fire.
But really, we can all do a little bit. It doesn’t matter who. It doesn’t matter if you agree with their views. It doesn’t matter if there is a language barrier. We’re all human, and that is what matters. Humans helping humans. For all you know, the person you have nothing in common with, might be the one who saves your life. Because it goes both ways. If you help them, they will probably look out for you, too. You may make a new friend. Many foreigners here in France don’t speak French well enough to converse. I certainly don’t. I take lessons, and I’ve improved, but I’m a long way from being able to have a conversation. There are plenty of apps that will get you around language barriers. Use them.
We started an “Animal owner network” of sorts, so that if you are hospitalized — you can alert people who can organize someone to look after your critters. The other day, we had a french lady ask if it is only for English speakers. It was a resounding “No!”. Everyone, regardless of language, is welcome. I don’t care if you are British, German, Swiss, Dutch, Belgian, Swedish…etc etc. If you need help, then you need help, and everyone will try their best to assist. And that’s how it should be. Let’s put the whole nationality thing aside. We’re humans. Period. It doesn’t matter where we come from, or where we live.
So if you can help someone, please do. Go out of your way to find ways to assist, without putting yourself or them in danger of infection. If you live on a road people travel to get from A to B, and you have produce you are not going to use (Eggs, veg, salad etc), why not put them on your mailbox with a note that people can help themselves. But remember: No touchy. 🙂
The gates are closed. We (well…only me here) aren’t going anywhere. Scary times.
Like many other European countries, France is closed. Well, closed for the most part. Essential trips (Groceries, Doctor, Pharmacy) only. One person at a time, carrying an “Attestation de deplacement derogatoire” and photo ID. No one across the border, unless it’s a French resident returning home. Some departments are putting up physical road blocks. Macron said because too many people flout the rules (There have been over 80,000 fines!), if you are caught in violation of the rules, you will not only be fined, but go into a database. If you get sick with Covid-19…and you are found to be a rule breaker… your hospitalization costs may not be covered by national health, but will have to be paid for by yourself.
Right now it’s… Je sauve des vies. Je reste chez moi. (I save lives. I stay at home.)
I have plenty of food for myself and the animals, so no worries there at the moment.
And just like that… we are in Quarantine / Isolation in France for the next 14 days. The borders are closed for 30 days. We may have avoided that, but there were a whole lot of idiots in Bordeaux, Paris and a few other places, taking advantage of the sunshine yesterday, out in vast numbers, practically on top of each other — directly after all public places, bars, restaurants, cinemas and non-essential shops were closed. As well as all events over 100 people being cancelled. Not only that, just after Macron announced that bars, restaurants etc will close at midnight — a lot of people ran out to have “one last drink” with their friends. (And if any of them had CV, it may well be the very last drink they had with them!) Thanks, you dimwits. Stock up on condoms please, because we really don’t need more of your kind in 9 months.
So what does this mean? No one is allowed to visit anyone, or be visited by anyone. Essential short distance travel to get groceries, go to the doctor, pick up meds — and only with a document stating exactly where you come from, where you are going, and why. Workers need a letter from their employer that they are required to work for essential services, or they cannot go to work. Again, need to have documentation as above. No one is allowed to leave the house, except with the above documentation. Whether it is to go jogging, or to walk the dog for 10 minutes. All outdoor activities like exercise, walking the dog etc, must be solitary. No meeting people for a walk, no letting kids play with each other. None of that. Zero contact. If you encounter anyone, you have to keep your distance. There will be fixed and mobile spot checks. If you cannot produce the document required, it is an instant €38 fine. Clearly there are RoboCops in France. 😉 Unless the Gendarmes are not classed as human… (Contact is contact, right?) All contact with people outside your household is strictly prohibited, except for necessary interaction with grocery staff, doctors etc. Even then you are to keep at least 1 meter between you if possible. This means no riding / training horses outside your property, and not even on your property, if you have neighbors. If your horses are boarded elsewhere (and being looked after), you are not allowed to go there. Period.
Obviously this means no vets (except emergencies), farriers, trimmers, equine dentists, feed deliveries allowed. None. Zero. Zilch.
So even if you think it will “never happen”… don’t. Just don’t. If your animals need vaccinations, surgery, meds, farriers, dentists etc — do it NOW. If you need meds, dentist, vaccinations etc — NOW IS THE TIME. Not tomorrow. Not next week. NOW. Because on Thursday Macron announced schools closing today. On Saturday evening he closed the bars, night clubs, non essential stores at midnight the same day. And today, Monday, at 8pm, he put everyone into isolation as of noon tomorrow. So inside of 3 days we went from “Schools closing Monday”, to full isolation by tomorrow. Not much time to get anything done. A friend of mine has a sick cat. Her surgery was just cancelled because of this. Poor thing is in pain, but there is nothing my friend can do for her. And that sucks.
So here are a few tips: First of all: Check your medical thermometers. Mine were both deader than a Dodo. I managed to grab one yesterday — the last one! — because the delivery of the one I ordered is still not here. Make sure you have enough feed for at least 4 weeks. Make sure your first aid kit (both for yourself, and your animals) are up to date. Have Vetwrap, Animalintex, Wound treatment etc handy. (Because that vet may not be able to get to you!) Nappies for dressings. Duct tape. Have a hoof rasp and some pincers, in case you need to treat a hoof / take off a shoe. I always have Nux Vomica (D6), Belladonna (D6), Arnica (D6), and Apis Mellifica (D6) in my kit. (Pearls, not tablets or drops.) Nux Vomica and Belladonna for mild colic. Arnica for bruising / wounds. Apis Mellifica for hives / stings. (You can get them at the pharmacy usually. D6 is X6 or C3 dilution. Depending where you are.) Batteries for anything you might need that might run out. I also keep Arnica ointment and my own Plantain ointment handy. Hibiscrub and/or Betadine too. Nitrile / Latex gloves, too. Make up sheets with the name and photograph of your animals. List their feed requirements, habits (as well as any unpleasant / dangerous ones!), comfort requirements. Stabled or out? Rugged, unrugged? Which halter belongs to which horse? Tag them. Where is the feed kept? How is it fed? Where is the water tap, the hose, the buckets, the trough? Is anything on meds? If yes — detailed descriptions of where it’s kept, what to give, how often and dosages. Be specific. If you end up in hospital, and a stranger ends up looking after your animals — they need this! List all emergency numbers too. Vet, Farrier, Close Friends, Relatives.
Have enough food for yourself, too. Leave some toilet paper, pasta, soap, sanitizer for others too, omg.
I have 9 confirmed cases less than 4 miles from me, and another 3 cases about 6 miles from me. Luckily I’m way off the beaten track, so “no contact” isn’t difficult, and I can be out on my land if I choose. Others are not so lucky.
And when (it’s a when, now, not an if) you’re in lockdown… sit back, relax, chill and stay away from people. Nothing you can do but stay put.
Which is exactly what I’ll do now. Take care, don’t do anything stupid, wash your hands properly. We’ll get through this. Eventually.
I’ve filled up one display cabinet… and I think I’ll have enough to fill another. There were just some “Must haves” thrown on the market and I grabbed them. Some for sentimental reasons. Some are “Holy Grails”. Some were cheap bodies. … some because I just really like them. I started collecting the foals. I’m still short of a few, but I have quite a few now. I’m painting up 3 of them right now, but nowhere near done yet.
I’ll put the list here, and I’ll put photos, so this will be quite a graphics intensive post. It’s too wet and windy to risk putting them in the garden to photograph, but I’ll replace them with my own once I take decent ones.
So… here we go:
Classic Scale (1:12)
Salem
Glossy Cosette
Haflinger Foal
Sagr
Rex (Rearing Stallion)
American Quarter Horse Foal
Warmblood Foal
Morgan Foal
Quarter Horse Foal
Stock Horse Gelding
Trotting Stock Horse Foal
Wild Bronc (Masters of Equine Art)
Grulla Paint Horse (Running Thoroughbred)
Red Roan Sabino Part Arab (Black Stallion)
Traditional Scale (1:9)
Amber (x2)
Ashley (x2)
Le Fire (Custom Paint)
Sucesion (Custom Paint)
Thoroughbred Foal (Gilen)
Hackney Foal (Lippizaner Foal) x2
Huckleberry Bey (x2) (Polaris) (Nutcracker Prince)
Andalusian Foal (Custom Paint)
Phantom Wings
Lusitano (Esprit)
Stormy
Misty
OT Sara Moniet RS (Body)
Lucien (Valegro)
Ethereal (Body)
Marwari
70th Anniversary Edition Hamilton
Yeah, I know. A lot. And a few more on the way from the US, but I’m not sure anymore what’s in the box! Add to that… there are some in Germany, but I don’t know which are still “Alive” I know there’s a Pacer, and I *think* it’s the Appaloosa Quarter Horse, but not sure. There should be a Grazing Mare, a CAM, CAS, CAF. I’m hoping they will be found. Would be nice to get them back, as well as all my “little” horses from when I was a kid.
Easy. I get on, and we go. Alas, he sweats profusely, so I use a dressage pad and a lunging roller. No stirrups, nothing else. Just that. Yes, I was riding in sandals. It was hot and I forgot my boots. Oz had to sniff my foot. 🙂 Well, people tend to see him tacked up, and he tends to be gung-ho to go. He practically tiptoes and stands very upright, giving the illusion that he is a) much bigger than he actually is, and b) extremely flighty, nervous and uncontrollable. Well, wrong. He’s 14.1hh, not the 15h people tend to think he is when he stands like that. He’s also just excited to go, but not uncontrollable. Just eager. Don’t get me wrong, he is not a slow horse, or a slacker. He’s extremely forward, one of the most forward horses I have ever ridden. When he is out, he wants to go. The faster the better. So, when I dragged the pony to the gate, wearing nothing but a saddle pad and a bridle… there was apprehension from my fellow riders. “Are you SURE about this? We’ll wait for you to saddle him.” I don’t need a saddle. In fact, I ride better without one. The reason for that is a whole other post. 🙂 Anyway, we went out one day, 3 of us. Every time they wanted to speed up, they were like “Is it okay if we… (insert gait of choice)” and my answer was always “Just go ride like you always do. Don’t mind us. We’ll keep up.” “It’s not…never mind. Just don’t fall off.” On the way back, one of the horses got tangled in some loose branches, and spooked. Oz, not to be outdone, exploded into a sympathy spook. When he landed, I was scolding him for being an idiot. Behind me was utter silence. I turn, and see both riders stare at me as if I’d grown three heads. “What?” “How the HELL did you stay on that? Jesus! Did you superglue yourself to his back???” Muahahahha. Those who ride bareback a lot will know exactly how I stayed on. Those who have never ridden bareback… ought to try it some time to understand. I have every single muscle at my disposal. Not just mine, but his too. It may only be a split second, but I can feel those muscles tense before he explodes. I know when, how high, which direction — before it happens. So I compensate accordingly. (I’ve been wrong, too, but not often.) That is something you won’t get with a saddle. Any of them. It’s usually way to subtle to notice. I’ve stayed on through a sudden 180 when we were surprised by motorcycles on the bridleway, and he spun in mid canter. (Don’t ask me how.) Still, it’s unfathomable to a lot of people that I go hacking without a saddle. We never go long when I go bareback, because it’s uncomfortable for him over a long period. (Imagine having a weight pressing in the same spot on your back for 3 hours… so I don’t do that.) It’s also one of the reasons I don’t do treeless saddles. It’s the weight distribution. I find it quite unreliable on the treeless, so my saddle has a proper tree.
However, the same people who frown when I scuttle about bareback, keep suggesting to go bitless. “I can’t.” I tell them. “Oh he’ll do fine, just practice in the arena first.” “No, you don’t get it. I can’t. He’s a photoic head shaker.” Blank look. Hello, there is a reason I ride without a nose band. It irritates the hell out of him, due to the nerves firing in his face. Since every bitless bridle has a nose band… no. I can’t. It’s that simple. It’s not that I don’t want to, but if you think a bit is torture for this horse — a nose band acting on those sensitive, painful nerves is much, much worse. By now, I’ve even ditched the brow band. Next step is finding a Meroth bit that works for him, so I can ditch the headstall altogether. We shall see. It’s been so grotty and constant rain, with deep, deep mud the past few months… there hasn’t been much riding at all. But hopefully it’ll dry up soon, and get a bit better. Right now, his hooves are soft from the constantly wet ground, and even Stormy is feeling it. So we’re not going out.
I’ve posted this video on a FB group…and it practically went viral.
Here’s a little context. 🙂 This bridge is in the woods near Esher, not even a mile from the yard where Oz was boarded. If you wanted to go to Prince’s Coverts or Claygate — this is the route you had to take. Now… this is a live railway bridge. So you kind of learn the timetable by heart, to avoid the trains roaring over the top. Alas… we are talking about Network Rail in the UK, and time tables are a little “Speculative”. So chances are that you’ll get caught out at one time or another. We’ve been caught out a few times, and Oz, hearing (or even seeing) the “Dragon”, was convinced it’ll be the end of him. So I don’t blame him for being apprehensive about the place. However… if you then add a puddle into the mix — all bets are off. Puddles rank as follows:
Small puddle — snortworthy, but tolerable. You might get wet toes. Yuck.
Medium puddle — will bite the legs off small grey horses. Cannot step into that. Too dangerous.
Large puddle — infested by Puddleus Sharkus Minor. The Lesser Spotted Puddle Shark, and possibly alligators, which are very common in Surrey, England. Will eat small grey horses. Definitely not stepping in that.
Puddle stretching the width of the path — HELL no. 30ft sink holes. Oz has seen entire herds of Shires swallowed by those. Not a chance.
So now you have the dragon bridge, plus a large shark infested puddle — and it’s dark under there.
He’s not afraid, he’s just super vigilant to protect me. Honest.
Every time I had to go under that bridge, he damn near freaked. But even though he’s hugely apprehensive, he tries because I’m asking. To me, that’s massive bravery. 🙂
I do not (and never will) carry a whip. I don’t believe in them, and Oz is scared to death by them. When it’s just too much to ask of him, I generally get off and just stand with him, reassuring him, letting him look, sniff, and figure it out. It may take five minutes. I might take an hour. I honestly don’t care. He gets as much time as he needs. I’ve never had an obstacle we couldn’t get past eventually. We’ve had plenty of 180’s. But we get past in our own damn time. Or rather, when he’s ready.
I do push him verbally, but I also let him have a relatively slack rein so he can move his focus where he needs to. (Landed me in a ditch once or twice…)
So there you have it. My brave little Paso, who’s really scared of everything — but soldiers on in spite of it.
I pointed out that I ignore her now, because I can’t take tears and temper tantrums seriously, and neither is constructive. The moment she went “How dare you”, it was over for me.
Boy did I ever get jumped on lol. Apparently the sun shines out of her ass. Maybe people should use that sunshine as a power source…
Frankly, when the Ozone Hole was discovered in 1984, it took all of 3 years to do something about it. I well remember everyone going to pump sprays almost immediately. It was taken seriously, and people rallied.
But noooo…. “Your generation knew and did nothing”
Ahem. No. When we knew specifics, things were done. Almost immediately. (Montreal Protocol)
But 30 years ago we didn’t have the kind of science and facts we have now. How can you do something, when you don’t have specifics? When you lack the facts? There was no internet. We had newspapers. So no, we couldn’t do anything about something we had no idea was happening back then.
And measures were taken once it became clearer that there’s a problem. Not enough perhaps, but it wasn’t ignored. Nor were we aware of all the facts then. It took time to get the facts, to narrow down the causes, to figure out what to do about it. But we didn’t ignore it. If we had, the world would be in a much, much worse state now. I’m 55 this year. To Greta that might seem ancient, but it’s not. Maybe I come across as a grumpy old woman. I don’t know.
But when I see “funny” videos of a baby trying to figure out how to turn a page in a book, because it is used to an iPad… Or the Instagram generation of teenagers in the latest fashion, with new phones, and a plastic water bottle… Or 25 year olds travelling to exotic places four times a year… When I see dump trucks in India “disposing” of waste into a river… When I hear about Mexico City suffering a water shortage because of a brewery…
I have to wonder.
Apparently my generation and the previous ones are the bad guys. We’re to blame for everything wrong in the world today.
Riiiiight. It has nothing to do with younger generations wanting everything sterile, convenient, brand new. They are not to blame. They inherited this mess. They have nothing whatsoever to do with it.
My generation and previous ones are not blameless. But to lay the entire mess at our feet is not justified. We are to blame for bringing up the next generation to be wasteful, disrespectful, and negligent. We should have done a better job there. However, I grew up walking to school. When I went to business school in a town 10km away, I took the bus. At 6am, rain, shine, ice, sleet… didn’t matter. My parents would have taken my bus pass and made me walk, had I asked them to drive me to school every morning. Later, I took shopping bags with me when I did the grocery shop. This got me no amount of funny looks at the supermarkets in the UK at the time, because… plastic bags were free, why not use them? Why bring shopping bags? Well, I was brought up that way. It was normal to me. I’ve probably recycled, reused, upcycled for longer than Saint Greta has been alive. The sweat pants I’m wearing right now are oh… 30? years old? Thereabouts. They are ratty, they have holes, they have the odd stain on them. I have T-Shirts that are old enough to be Greta’s mother. And when I finally deem them unwearable… they get a new lease of life as rags. The only thing I buy every now and then are socks, underwear, and maybe a new pair of sweat pants. But even the sweat pants are often from 2nd hand shops. I have tons of pullovers, jeans, jackets and whatnot. I don’t wear them enough to wear them out. And even my socks tend to last for years. As a matter of fact, I have a pair of wooly socks I adore. They are probably close to 40 years old now. Not only are they heavenly warm and soft… it’s a pair of socks my grandmother knitted for me. I love them. I don’t wear them a lot, only when it’s really, really cold, but I keep them even though they are out of shape now. It doesn’t get cold enough here to need them, so they are packed away atm. As is the pair she knitted much later for Paul, who was quite apprehensive about them — and they became his favorite pair of socks when he had to stand in the cold for hours. Meanwhile, I watch the mountains of discarded clothes in landfills, some brand new with the tags still on them, discarded because “it’s last year’s fashion”, mostly synthetic fibres that don’t rot. That’s not my generation, thank you. That’s generally people in their teens, twenties and thirties.
I rarely see someone in their 50’s and 60’s “needing” bottled water for everything. (And you do realize that bottled “mineral water” you’re carting around in your plastic bottle is… very expensive tap water, right?) Then there is this cleaning obsession. What’s up with that? Everything has to be sterile, bleached to death, because otherwise you’ll get sick. No. You get sick because you clean everything to the point of being sterile. Your body doesn’t have a chance to build up an immunity to bacteria if you keep eliminating that bacteria. I mean, wash your hands, definitely. But do you really need every surface more sterile than a hospital operating table? Let your kids play in the dirt, for God’s sake. It’ll do them good. Kids need to get into scrapes. They need to have the odd scraped knee, a bruise, the sniffles. They need to jump into puddles, eat a worm, stuff like that. Otherwise, how will they ever build up a resistance? (Or an aversion to eating them, in the case of worms lol) Keeping them away from everything is probably one of the reasons why so many kids are sick and allergic now. And for fuck’s sake, VACCINATE the little darlings!! Maybe you don’t care if your kid dies of measles or the flu, but I assure you, most other people care if their kid dies from it because you think beetroot juice is good enough. To go from 0 cases of measles in the US in 2000, to almost 1300 in the first six months of 2019 is absolutely appalling! I’m not saying herbal remedies and homeopathy are quackery. Far from it. But neither will I take chances with my life, or the life of others, because I’m too brainwashed to see that the benefit of vaccinations far outweighs the possible complications. Yes, there are complications in some cases. No drug is ever 100% side effect free, but that’s a chance you take with any medicine. Even herbal. Autism has nothing to do with vaccinations. If it did, there would be millions of autistic people walking around. It’s genetic. We really don’t want Polio, Smallpox, Measles, or — God forbid — the Plague back. I think we have enough to deal with, without adding a pandemic into the mix.
The thing is, we all do as much as we can to save the world around us. Some of us are able to do more than others in that respect, but that doesn’t mean anyone doing less is to blame for what’s happening. They don’t deserve to be yelled at, or blamed, because I don’t think there is anyone in the West who isn’t at least trying to do a little bit.
There is a lot we could do that would require very little effort. Supermarket own brands of non-perishable goods — shampoo, detergent, flour, sugar, rice, pasta etc — could be made available in big dispensers where people can fill their own receptacles. They could take as much, or as little, as they need. Get a ticket to pay for the contents, but bring your own container. Can you imagine how much plastic we could save, just by implementing that? Germany has bottle crushers in every supermarket. There is a 25¢ deposit on every bottle, which you get back from the machine. Simple, convenient, and effective. Why aren’t they everywhere? You can also get your lemonade, beer and other drinks from a drinks merchant by the crate. You pay a deposit for the crate and the glass bottles, which you get back when you return them. The bottles are returned to the manufacturer of the drink, washed, sterilized, and refilled. Again, why is this not available everywhere? It used to be. Why was this ever changed? I’m guilty of buying the odd bottle of carbonated water. That’s because I like a bit of fizz in my orange or apple juice, and a Sodastream isn’t worth it for the little I drink of it. But still water? Hell no. I wonder if Greta insists on tap water at her podiums, or if that water comes in plastic bottles… But God help you if you dare voice any negative, or dismissive comment against her.
I drive a diesel. (Boo-hiss!) I have nothing against electric cars (EV) — except that we don’t have the infrastructure to support everyone switching to EV’s, nor do they have the range of regular cars, nor do they have the “oomph” of regular vehicles. Have you seen the machinery used in agriculture? How do you propose to run a combine harvester on electric? That thing would run out of juice in an hour flat — and then need to recharge for 12. It’s not sustainable. We’d starve to death, because harvests tend to be time critical. Agriculture is hard enough as it is, if you then screw around with the machinery used… you’ll open a whole new can of worms. My diesel is used maybe twice a week. It pollutes less than your EV’s, because it just doesn’t get driven that much. But if I switched to an EV — never mind the cost — it wouldn’t be better for the environment. I’d have to keep that thing charged, especially when it’s cold and the battery would lose power. I fill up the diesel and forget about it. So no, I won’t be switching to an EV any time soon. Plus, my diesel is a 4×4 that can tow a horse trailer if need be. Something tells me an EV will struggle with this. And in most countries the energy required to charge those EV’s is generated by fossil fuel plants. How is that any better? Let’s not even go into what happens when your battery is dead in 8-10 years, and it will cost more to replace the battery than the car is worth, and never mind that we have no way of recycling those batteries yet. Or those 8 year old kids mining the cobalt and lithium needed for those batteries. I honestly don’t see how a car can be deemed “Green”, when it relies on the destruction of the environment by mining the minerals needed to keep it going. And we’re going to run out of those at some point, just as we’ll run out of fuel at some point — then what? Horse and cart? Oh…wait…
Livestock is bad. As any rabid vegan will tell you, meat farming is completely to blame for greenhouse gases. Worse than anything else. Add to this the cruelty of slaughter, and you have the perfect storm. I eat meat. There, I said the dirty word. I’m to blame for all of the world’s evils. I’m a cruel person, an animal abuser by proxy, the lowest scum of the universe. Except… that livestock you’re so fond of blaming for everything? Well. What are you going to fertilize your veggies with? Do you know what happens to soil when animal dung – aka fertilizer — is absent? When those hooves don’t revitalize the ground they stomp on? I don’t agree with factory farming, whether it’s pigs, poultry or cattle. But a lot of them are not factory farmed. I go for free range eggs when I can, I have 4 chickens who are currently not laying (because they need more daylight) in winter, so I need to get eggs. All of them are rescues, taken in not for the eggs, or to eat them — but for pest control. I prefer the chickens to eat the bugs, to the bugs eating my salads and veggies. I got my Janzè hens because they go after asian hornets. No other reason. Well. I needed at least one extra chicken, because I pulled a little dwarf hen out of the cage she was in, and didn’t want her to be alone. So I got Thelma & Louise, and later added another Dutch Crested rescue so Lady Gaga has a friend her own size. Along comes a friend, desperate to rehome a donkey standing in the butcher’s lot, with an expiry date on his head. So I took that one in, too. Friends of mine are currently getting muck by the trailer load for their veggie plot, and are very happy that mine is chemical free. Can’t get more organic than that. I do fecal worm counts so I know what, if anything, I need to worm for. They didn’t need anything last year, but with the donkey arriving, they might this year. Still, I warned my friends that if I need to worm, it’ll be around mid February, and that the muck would then contain traces of wormer which they won’t want on their veggies. While they were here yesterday, they took away 10 yellow plum saplings as well, which have sprung up all over the place. Rather than pull them out and burn or shred them — I just rehome the tree. If it grows, great. If not, it can still be disposed of then. I’ve rehomed around 50-60 saplings in the past 4 months, and planted another 12 around my own property where they’ll be of use. Maybe the horse and cart is an option after all. How about an oxen? 😛
The thing is, people do a lot more than they are being given credit for. I’m pretty sure Greta is set for life. There will be plenty of people who would take care of her no questions asked.
But the tears and trembling lips and accusations don’t do it for me. When that starts, all I see is an attention seeking brat who is resorting to putting guilt trips on the adults. Much like a toddler in a supermarket.
I don’t buy it. And my not buying it, is obviously an affront to people. Often the very same people who seem to delight in voting for someone who single-handedly dismantles much of the climate change improvements made in the past, deregulates polluting industries and who claims climate change isn’t real, despite the evidence pointing in the opposite direction. Think, before you cast your ballot. If you keep voting in people who don’t give a shit for anything but their own gain, then why are you so surprised that the world is going to hell?
Australia burns, while Europe floods. Snow in Spain and Southern France. Record breaking storms. Temperatures soaring so high, they are starting to be dangerous. Water shortages all over the place. Cape Town skirted past Day Zero by the skin of their teeth.
I’m nowhere near perfect. I make as many mistakes as the next person. I try to do as much as I can, with the resources available to me. Every little bit helps. Even if we’re all wrong, and climate change is not caused by anything we’re doing — it can’t hurt to clean up our act, right?
But what I don’t need, is Saint Greta putting the blame on older generations. Hell, we could do the same thing, and say “I blame the Victorians and their Industrial Revolution” if they’d cleaned up their act… They didn’t know. We didn’t know either. The whole thing kind of started back in the 80’s, when the first warnings were made. There wasn’t enough scientific study at this point to implement anything, and the technology to reverse some of the things we did learn about — didn’t exist. And still doesn’t. We learned about the ozone layer in 1985. The effects of climate change the century had were only really made public in 1988. That’s not that long ago, and it’s not like nothing was done. But it takes time, new technology has to be developed, tested and implemented. Solar panels were really only an option from the 90’s onward. Before that they were too expensive, and difficult to store the energy. Even now, storing solar, hydro and wind power is extremely difficult, and often wind turbines need to be turned off because there is nowhere for the energy to go, or be stored. The technology just isn’t there yet. Just because we have eco warriors galore, doesn’t mean we have the answers, or means, to solve the problem. And it’s not for lack of trying, like Greta implies.
There, more than anyone will ever read. That’s my personal opinion, and I try to stay informed.
I was alerted by a friend to a gelded donkey who has stood in the butcher’s lot for 2 months, along with his two stud pals. The two studs had a home to go to, and, originally, so did “Tiny Tim”. But just as the other two were due to go to their new home — the lady who was going to take Timmy…changed her mind. Or her circumstances changed. I don’t know exactly what happened there, but he was now in danger of being on the meat truck on the Tuesday, when the other two were leaving. It was Sunday. 15th December. I went with her to have a look at the donkey. He was little and shivering badly. There was next to no shelter. A few bushes. A caravan to hide behind, but nothing to keep the rain off. Timmy was soaked through and very, very cold. We fed them, and they had no interest in us. Hay first. But then… Timmy decided to come and check out this human standing in his mud pit. He was also not amused when one of the other donkeys barged past him and demanded all the attention. 🙂 We went home, and I was still undecided. It’s not fair to keep a lone donkey. There should be two. Yes, I have horses, but contrary to common belief — Donkeys and horses aren’t the same species. They don’t act the same, they don’t “speak the same language”, and they don’t have the same needs. But…the meat truck was looming for this little guy. More than looming, actually. Practically parked there already. The old man who’d owned them was put in a home apparently, and the relatives sold the donkeys. So on Sunday night, I told my friend to “Just bring him. I’ll figure it out.” He cost me the meat price. I could have got a cheaper donkey, but that’s okay. This guy was not going to be Salami, or dog food if I could help it.
Fast forward to Tuesday, 17th December. Everything is ready. Timmy is supposed to arrive at around 11am-ish. 11am comes and goes. Noon comes and goes. Lots of messages going to and fro. It was raining and horrible. Cold. I kept standing in the rain, waiting. At last, at 1pm, a trailer is coming down the road. I grabbed the smallest head collar I had, and ran to open the gate. The horses were locked into the track, so they won’t cause havoc. The ramp comes down, and a very scared, cold, shivering donkey looks at me as if to say “What’s happening? Where am I?” We get him out of the trailer and into the field. He doesn’t want to go anywhere and he’s shivering so badly. And he was scared. He was away from his two buddies, he was alone, in a strange place. I get it. So I tried to get him to the car port, to put the only small rug I have on him. I got him almost there, but it’s all scary. So I tied him to the tree for a minute and put the rug on him. That was scary too. I doubt he’s ever worn a rug. I left him for about 2 minutes to grab some hay while the butcher turned his trailer, and my friend got her car started so another friend could get his van out… and when I turn around, there’s Timmy… heading for the gate lol. Loose Donk. I went after him and grabbed him, trying to get him back to the car port. Nope. Not going. It’s all too strange, too scary. We tried to move him between 3 of us… nope lol. I run to get food, and that eventually persuaded him. (Don’t blame him, that stuff smells so good, I want to eat it.) So he’s at the car port, tied safely, having herbal muesli, a warm blanket that’s way too big for him, and hay. The horses are watching him like hawks, and he’s watching them. For now he’s happy, so we went to get some coffee. After coffee, my friends left, and I needed to get Timmy down to the woods, where he would be staying next to the horses for a while. (On a side note — Livvy charmed another victim lol) Right. We’re heading to the woods. Donkey, remember? Timmy did not want to leave the dry place with the food. I employed some Carson James training, and eventually we were moving. Slowly. The horses are going mental in the field. Stormy wants to get to the newcomer, while Oz is watching this with interest, but from a safe distance. (A VERY safe distance, lol.) They worry Timmy a bit, but he’s coming along. He was very timid and unsure, still cold, but getting better with the blanket on. His fur was completely soaked. I learned later that donkeys don’t have waterproof coats. So when it rains, they get soaked to the skin. This little guy had been standing in the rain for 2 months, while we had extremely bad weather and two horrendous storms with extreme winds. (Gusts measuring 132km/h. That’s about 80mph) No wonder he was cold! I let him go in the woods, and he explored a little bit. There was water, hay… I left him to it for a bit. He was very unsure, but perked up quickly.
I went to warm up a bit and get out of my wet coat, then went back down to the woods about an hour later, to see how he is getting on. He saw me and came straight away, clearly a lot more confident, and a lot less shivery. I’d say he’s a happy donkey at the moment. He also follows me around like a dog. The only time he goes near the fence where the horses are, is if I’m going there. Stormy is very interested. Oz…had me laughing out loud. If you look closely to the left of Stormy’s bum, you can see Oz, waaaay in the distance. He is playing it safe. Because you need to keep at least 4 fences between you and the “Thing” in the woods. Timmy might eat him. He was checking things out in the afternoon, but when I went down to feed him… it was a case of “I go where you go” and he followed me back up toward the house — straight under the electric fence. Because you won’t move a donkey that doesn’t want to be moved, and it was getting dark, I left him in the big field overnight. There was hay anyway, so no biggie. Checked on him again late evening, and got a quiet “Haw” from him.
Wednesday morning, 18th December, he was still where he was supposed to be, which was good.
The horses weren’t quite as freaked, but Oz still kept a fair distance. In the afternoon, I switched Timmy into the track, so he has access to the field shelter, as the horses don’t use it anyway. The horses are now in the field and woods. Wednesday afternoon it was cleanup time, as he was now dry under the rug. As I fluffed up all the sticky fur… I found rain scald on his back. Not bad, but it’s there. He is in love with his blankie. I tried to clip the front shut again, as one hook had come loose, and he wriggled away the entire time. I think he was afraid I’ll take it away. 🙂 And now that he’s dry and warm, but can still be outside — he’s not about to give it up. His hooves are in a terrible state. Too long, tight… just nasty. A call and text to the farrier was in order. I let him back out and he sloshed through the mud back to the horses.
Thursday, 19th December, was another little brush day, and I measured him to see what rug size he needs, but I left him alone for the most part so he can chill out. Meanwhile, I was hunting high and low for a little rug. Preferably with a neck. Nearly impossible. But he’s getting closer.
Friday, 20th December, I finally found one, but without a neck. Ordered it. As I had a French lesson in the morning, I popped into the local feed store to pick up chicken feed, and they had little red head collars. So he has a proper halter now.
Saturday, 21st December, Timmy had a little outing. I put his new head collar on, and after a little brush and picking hooves, he was allowed to roam the garden and explore. He was loving it. He spooked the cows. He chased the chickens. He nibbled on everything, but found some dandelion in a pot, and demolished that. Tried to follow me in the house, too.
I’d finally heard back from the farrier, but he’s in the UK atm, so he isn’t available. A friend of mine will trim him instead, so that maybe I can let him in with the horses. One at a time. I think Oz is scared of him. He actually got nasty over the fence. Stormy is interested — of course — and the two of them call to each other when they are out of sight. It’s so terribly muddy and wet at the moment, it’s not much fun for any of them. And Oz is limping again, so it’s soak / poultice / wrap again, as the abscess seems to be back. As I said, the hoofies are quite bad. My local farmer, who did a double take on Wednesday morning when he saw a donkey in my field, is enamored with Timmy. 🙂 He brought a new bale of hay on Saturday, and the first question was “Comment va le petit âne ?” How is the little donkey? — well, he’s happy as a clam. He’s warm, dry, has food, water, company, and gets cuddles from everyone. Happy beastie. When I went out to put him back in the track, as I had to pop out to pick up a rug a friend donated, he was already back in there. 🙂 Now he has a rug that fits, it’s warm, and it has a bum flap to keep the wind off his butt. The other rug was getting very wet, as it was just too long for him. Not the prettiest blanket, but hey… snug. Warm. Dry. Who cares about aesthetics?
It’s raining. Again. Well, actually, it has barely stopped since oh… I forget. End of September? Everything is soaked, the fields are waterlogged, the ponds have turned into lakes and what used to be a stream, is now a great big river. And yet, I don’t resent it as much as I might have a few years ago. We needed the rain. Maybe not quite as uninterrupted, but we did need it. Well, we needed rain, and we got a deluge. My poor ninja chickens would like me to build an ark for them. They don’t like wet feet, and right now it’s impossible to take a dust bath…because there’s no dry dust or dirt to be found anywhere near them. (I’m planning to put a sandbox in there, but it would get flooded no doubt.) I had a lake in the chicken pen. Not a puddle. A lake. This almost reached the door. Luckily we moved the chicken house a few days earlier, because it was sitting right in the middle of this. I ended up digging a trench to drain it, but even that didn’t help the whole time. Meanwhile, the pond was filling up rapidly. As did the fields…
The horses were mired in mud, and I ended up slapping down paddock grids so they weren’t standing knee-deep in mud soup. I didn’t take “Before” pics, but this is after I put down 2 rows of grids for them. This was on the 1st November. The soup is worse now, but the grids are holding. Alas, I put a hay net into the field shelter (which also has grids on the floor) and they stand at the hay box… wanting to be fed there with loose hay, instead. They haven’t used to field shelter much, because of the noise of rain on the roof. Instead they stand in the rain and tough it out. Squeaky — not to be outdone — has decided that rain and wind are horrible, and it’s much nicer to come in and hang out in front of the fire.
So yeah, we’re all a bit fed up with the rain now. I think we’ve had our quota now. Time to turn off the tap for a while.
I am going to share the recipe of the stollen we make in Germany. It is not the same as the traditional Christmas Stollen, because my family isn’t too keen on Marzipan. I figure there are other people out there in the same boat, but who would like stollen too. So in the spirit of the season — I’ll share.
Quark Stollen (Christmas Stollen)
Bake well in advance to improve the flavor, it will keep for a few weeks. (We let ours rest for at least 2 weeks before we eat it.) Wrap in foil or store in an airtight container and keep in a cool place. (We wrap ours in tin foil)
Quark is a kind of Baker’s Cheese / Baker’s Curd. We can get it in the UK, not sure about the US. Ask around. 🙂 In France Quark is “Fromage Blanc”.
This recipe will make 2 Stollen.
500g ( 18 oz ) plain flour, sifted 6 level teaspoons of baking powder 150g ( 5 1/2 oz ) ground almonds 150g ( 5 1/2 oz ) unsalted butter, cold, cut into small cubes 2 eggs 150g ( 5 1/2 oz) caster sugar 250g ( 9 oz ) Quark 250g ( 9 oz ) raisins 110g ( 4 oz ) mixed chopped orange and lemon peel, the grated rind of 1 lemon ( unwaxed or organic / bio ) 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 tablespoon dark rum A few drops of almond extract A pinch of salt Extra (for glaze): melted unsalted butter powder ( icing ) sugar (Use the lemon juice from the lemon you use for the lemon peel, if you want to modify step 8, as below.)
1. Mix the flour, baking powder, ground almonds, grated lemon rind, eggs, sugar, cinnamon, almond extract, vanilla extract, rum, pinch of salt and the quark all together on a board. 2. Add the butter and quickly knead into a dough. (Don’t take too long, it kinda goes runny if you’re not careful.) 3. Add the raisins and chopped peels and knead them in. 4. Refrigerate for 1 hour 5. Divide the dough in half 6. Roll out the dough, and fold over to form a Stollen 7. Bake at: 180 C ( 350 F / gas 4 ) for a good 1 hour or until golden brown 8. Brush generously with melted butter and dust with powder ( icing ) sugar, while the stollen is still hot. (It forms a kind of glaze when it cools) 9. Leave to cool and store well in a cool place, dust with more powder ( icing ) sugar just before serving
We do a variation on step 8. My brigade mixes lemon juice into the butter, which gives it a nice lemony glaze when it all cools down. Since that’s not to everyone’s taste, I left that bit out. If you are doing the butter glaze, let the stollen cool completely before you put it on! Otherwise it’ll either never harden, or take forever (in which case you can’t wrap the darn things to store for “resting”.)
