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 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”.)
A lot of people have pets. A lot of people get rid of pets.
In 2017, I adopted 2 young Sphynx cats. Both were just over a year when I first became aware of them on a rescue site. They kept showing up. The foster lady insisted they go together. Every time someone said \”I could take one, but not the other.\” Kudos to the foster place — they didn\’t let them go individually.
Eventually I saw the post one too many times, and got in contact. \”I\’ll take both.\” I found out the reason they are up for adoption: \”Allergies\” Now…I know that \”Allergies\” generally means \”Too much bother.\” But with these two, it was a lot worse than I\’d thought. The foster lady got them from a woman who told her that her kid was allergic, and that every time the kid had a reaction, the cats went to \”stay with friends\”. Different friends every time, that is. The moment the kid was better, they came back, kid reacted…lather, rinse, repeat. I was told that \”one of them\” had papers, but she didn\’t know which one. There were oodles of delays, because she was trying to get their vaccination history, but didn\’t get it. Hell, she didn\’t even get their names, nor birthdays. Nothing. No info whatsoever. They weren\’t chipped, either. So I asked her to take them to the vet, get them chipped, passported, tested and vaccinated if they needed it. She also told me \”The dark one\” had been spayed about 3 weeks before they landed at the foster\’s house. Bearing in mind that she\’d been trying to place them for a good month before I said I take them… that would have been about 7-8 weeks prior.
This was in early February 2017.
The two girls arrived on the 18th March 2017, late at night, in the middle of a blizzard.
I noticed \”The dark one\” — now named Jezebel — had a bit of a weepy slightly closed eye, but wasn\’t too concerned. Long drive, strange place, etc. Both were exploring, but a little shy. Understandable. Pixie, my other Sphynx, was immediately pissed off, took one look at them, and hated them on sight.
Within a day or so, the weepy eye got worse. Plus… the stitches from the spay were still in her belly!
They also only had vaccination cards, not an EU Passport. I was pretty appalled, considering they\’d been to the vet for a health check. It also made me wonder if the tests were done before vaccinating, to make sure it\’ll be okay to do so. If I\’d been able to pick them up myself, I\’d have taken them as is, and would have had my vet check them out. Alas, that wasn\’t an option. Hindsight. 20/20. Well, one got the door open while I was out, and there was a horrendous fight. I came in to blood on the floor, a shredded Jezebel, a bleeding Pixie, and a Livvy in hiding (but unharmed).
Since I had an appointment at the vet the next day anyway, and the scratches / bites / bleeding weren\’t exactly life threatening (though looked nasty), I figured I\’ll take both of them in the morning. That way I could get Jez\’s eye looked at, and the stitches removed, while Pixie went for her booster jab. Well. The weepy eye was diagnosed as Feline Herpes (FHV-1). This isn\’t uncommon in cats, it\’s treatable, but obviously it\’s not ideal to add a Herpes cat in with healthy cats. I worried about the other two, but neither showed any signs of having it. Things went downhill in the fights department. There were so many, by August I was at my wits end.
I put them up for adoption.
You\’ve guessed it, lots of people wanted one, but not the other. I made no bones about Jezzie\’s herpes infection, but every time I reminded someone that she will require vet visits and medication when she has a flare up, and that moving will definitely cause one… crickets. Never heard from them again. Now, I wasn\’t even asking much for them. A good, stable, loving home was more important to me. I\’d have waived the fee entirely, but I didn\’t want to attract the \”throw away\” brigade. Then…I got a Facebook message. \”Hi, where did you get them from? And by the way, their names are Olivia and Elsa.\” *Blink* Turns out the lady was their original owner. She\’d had to let them go when she got divorced. She\’d have loved to have them back, but couldn\’t take them. As we were chatting, the plot thickened. The lady she gave them to, was not the one I got them from. When I told her where they\’d come from, it became clear that the one the foster got them from, also wasn\’t the same person. I called the foster and asked if she knew any history at all on them, where the \”allergic kid\” people got them from. In the end, we determined I was at least the 5th owner. She\’d got them when they were 12 and 14 weeks old. She passed them on when they were about 9 months old. Picture that. When they came to me in March, they were a year and a half old. That means, in the 9 months between her letting them go, and me getting them, they had at least 2 owners before the foster took them. The foster had them for almost 2 months. So work this out: Breeder: 3 months 1st Owner: 6 months Foster: 2 months That\’s 11 months out of 18. Now, we determined that the person the foster got them from was not the same person the 1st owner gave them to. We then determined that those people also didn\’t get them from the same person the 1st owner gave them to. So that\’s at least 3 owners in those remaining 7 months, and for at least 3 months of that, they were shunted from pillar to post every two-three weeks, due to \”Allergies\”.
Those two cats didn\’t know if they were coming or going.
The adoption ad came down the same day I found this out. There was absolutely NO way I would pass them on, no matter how many fights there were. Livvy started to come out of her shell after about 6 months. Jezzie… she was a rambunctious tomboy, who didn\’t cuddle. Until October 2018. She came, out of the blue, to cuddle with me.
One year and 7 months later. 19 months. So by that time, she\’d spent more than half her life with me, and it took her that long to fully trust again. Granted, there was one huge move in between. We moved from the South of Germany to Northern France. But while it was all new surroundings, there were a few constants: The other cats. Me. Their stuff. My stuff. Everyone settled into their new surroundings… and in November 2018, we moved one last time. Permanently this time.
They took to the new house in a heartbeat, loving every inch of it.
Since I needed to register their microchips in France, I took everyone to the vet. I explained that Jez had been diagnosed with Herpes. The vet recommended that I finish the course of medication she was on at the time, and then take her to see their eye specialist. So that\’s what we did. He did tests. I should have bloody well insisted on tests, in Germany. My vet there told me it\’s pointless, she clearly has herpes. Well. She doesn\’t. She has an allergy (we don\’t know what) and had a blood infection — but no herpes. Off we went with new meds to treat all of that. They eye got better, until the nasty was gone. It flares up now and then, and we treat it again, but… it\’s not herpes. However… When I moved into the house I bought, there was a black and white cat hanging around. Fleeing in terror every time I set foot out of the door.
It was coming up to winter. She was skinny. So I fed her. Eventually she got less shy, put on some weight and became friendly. She came for schmoozies, but didn\’t want to come inside. Which is okay. My farmer neighbor popped in, and I asked him if he knew who the cat belonged to. I had my suspicions, because I found cat bowls, cat carrier, cat wormer etc in the utility room. \”Lorraine\” he says. So… the previous owner had left in JUNE, back to the UK… and just left the cat. I tried to rehome Squeaky, as she became known, but no one in France wants an adult cat. Since she\’s no bother, she\’s staying. Squeaky now comes on walks with me and Pixie, down the lane we go… 🙂 But I am thoroughly disgusted that people have so little concern for an animal they took in as a pet, never once considering that they have absolutely no choice over where or who they spend their life with.
When I moved to Bavaria, all was well. The place was lovely, I got on really well with my landlady and her son, we had BBQ’s, and did stuff together.
I rented a flat with 2 boxes in a large stable, and the fields in summer.
No tackroom access, so my saddle lived in the kitchen. No big deal.
They work in Austria, so every now and then I looked after the horses and dogs for a few days.
All the horses were in one herd, and one of hers frequently ran through the fence and took all the others with him.
So I got much exercise catching horses. Eventually I took mine out of that lot, because I didn’t want mine to get on the road.
Shit happens, I thought.
Also, when I went to open the window in the kitchen fully — I found out it’s actually loose on one side. So I tell them that there is a problem that needs fixing before winter. Son comes to look at it, agrees — does nothing except take a bit off.
The flat feels chilly, even in summer, but it’s kinda nice while it’s very hot outside.
That was in 2016.
Because I have an indoor cat, I only tip the windows anyway, so it’s no big deal about the kitchen window while it’s still warm out.
2016-17 was a harsh winter, but hey… what’s a bit of snow, right?
Except, the snow is blowing in under my front door, because there is a sizeable gap.
And the window is still not fixed.
And never mind I’m digging my way to the stable every day. Two or three times.
That’s directly in front of my door. Just sayin’.
2017 started with snowstorms, bad temperatures (-30) and I’m still having the horses, dogs and cats 2-3 days a week.
That might not sound like much, but when you dig your way to the stable through 3 feet of snow every morning, and trudge to the barn every night at 11pm to let the dogs out, snowstorm or not, then it gets a bit tedious.
I also can’t stay up past 11pm, because the second the heating is off, the temperature in the place drops rapidly.
It’s a freezing cold spring, snow on the 29th of April, and the horses aren’t allowed out until June.
Fine.
Summer rolls along, I take my horse out — and suddenly have 4 warmbloods (16-17h) on my tail. Fine. Shit happens, but it kept happening. It happened to the point where I didn’t take my horse out anymore.
Every time I went out, her horses went through the fence. EVERY damn time.
So I didn’t ride a lot, but concentrated on the youngster instead.
Meanwhile, I built a Catio (A cat enclosure) outside the living room window, under the roof, using coated chicken wire, in July.
To protect at least some of it, I used two big tarps, hooked onto the wire, to keep the rain out on days when it poured, but the weather was mostly very hot and sunny, so the tarp went up maybe 10 times in oh… 4 months? Think of it as a curtain on a bungee line. Now, bear in mind that no matter how well you secure a tarp, the wind is still going to blow through, since it’s not exactly hermetically sealed. It’s also about 4 feet from the building.
I mentioned the flat feels damp and cold (in June) and that it looks like the back wall is damp. (We’d had some heavy downpours, and hurricane strength winds) I also mentioned that the bedroom window has the same problem as the kitchen window (if you open it all the way, it falls off one hinge.) Since I’d only tipped the windows prior to having the catio, I didn’t know this was the case.
No one is interested.
By August, that damp patch was bigger. I show her. We investigate, but I mention it might have to do with the window not being tight, and that there is mold on the inside of the window. Renovations are mentioned, but nothing is done. (At this point, the tarp had never been closed. Not even once, because I only got the tarp in August after a heavy rain that soaked everything.)
I’m still looking after horses, dogs and cats — but at least the horses are out, so it’s just checking to make sure they are all ok.
I wanted to lead the youngster out, so he gets a change of scenery… and was greeted by a 16h bulldozer thundering toward us — outside the field.
Just what you want with a 1.5 year old on a rope.
I put Stormy back, and went to catch her damn horse.
This happened over and over and over.
Eventually I told her that I’m not comfortable with this, because I can’t go out to ride, and I really don’t want to be here on my own, having to find and catch and return 4 huge horses.
So the main culprit got a headcollar with wire on it, which he wore constantly.
2017 summer passed, roll on autumn.
In September I had the horse dentist coming, and asked if she wanted hers looked at, because her mare is very thin.
“Nah, they don’t need it. She’s always a bit skinny, it’s the breed. (Trakehner) Besides, I’m worming them soon.”
I suggested to do a fecal test, including tapeworm, to be sure it’s worms, and to make sure to worm for the right parasites. “No, I just worm them.”
That horse was more than “skinny”. Everyone is still out grazing 24/7 on less than nutritional grass.
Her son lost his driving license, so I ended up picking him up from the bus station, because landlady wasn’t around. At 11pm.
Okay, fine. He also lent me his car for a long journey, and they fed the cats. I was gone 1 day.
In October I mentioned that the mare could use supplementary hay, because the pasture clearly wasn’t feeding her, or she was very wormy. Or her teeth were bad. (Or all of the above.)
“She’s fine.”
In October, I also took the catio down, having already brought in all the stuff prior to this, as the weather was turning. I didn’t want stuff to get soaked.
The tarp (which hadn’t been up more than 10 times, and which was not keeping the wind / air out, since it was hooked to a WIRE FENCE) was blamed for the damp and mold, because “We’ve never had that problem before.”
I brought my horses in on the 1st November, because Oz is very suceptible to cold, and it was getting rather chilly at night.
Hers were still out “grazing” (meaning no hay) on the 6th November.
The mare was…beyond skinny.
We also have no heating oil, so she’s running the wood burner (which I am not allowed to touch), but never enough to get decent heating in the place. It’s cold, and I have 3 naked cats. The damp gets worse, because there is still a gap under the front door, the windows are still off the hinges at the top, and there is no direct sunlight coming in. So, no heat + damp = very uncomfortable.
To top things off… the heating oil people are supposed to come on a Thursday. I am left alone with instructions (verbal, not showing me) of where the truck has to go, and whatnot, for when the delivery comes. She also leaves me the number of the heating oil people — bear in mind that I have NO heating. At all. None. In NOVEMBER.
Well… it doesn’t come. I call, they say they told her they can’t get up the drive.
I spend 2 days without heating before they get back. Luckily it’s not mega freezing at that point. (Around 10C during the day.)
The oil arrived, yay. I still don’t appreciate being left to take care of the oil delivery, and having no heating (or hot water!!) at all, for 2 days.
But…there was also still no bedding for the horses!!! I ended up buying shavings by the bale, to the tune of €15 a bale, for about a month.
I also pointed out that the mare needed tons of groceries, but again “she’s always a bit skinny”
I was not comfortable with this, at all, but figured she’ll come in soon and get hay, and put the weight back on.
Right.
It snowed on the 19th of November. Her horses finally came in.
Still no bedding. Her horses are standing in damp, old muck.
Now, we’d been screwed by the neighbor, who’d sold me 26 round bales of hay — and then sold them to someone else without telling us. We found out after the hay season, so hay was tight.
I’d bought 360 small bales of hay. A bale weighed about 5kg. (That’s about 11lbs for the US people.) Even though I knew my hay would not last beyond *maybe* February, I still fed enough to make sure their engines were running properly and they were able to be warm. (Hard to do when you only have minimal shavings in the stall, because you know otherwise you’ll run out by January!!)
In December I bit the bullet and started to eradicate the mold and repainted the walls after that was done. When I get to the back corner… there was a patch that was so thick with paint and plaster — and damp as all hell — that belied the “never had that problem”. I know what rising damp looks like, and that corner (and all along the bottom of the outside wall) was a posterchild for it.
The bedding arrived early December, and I pointed out it is not enough.
“It’s plenty.”
Well… maybe for her, because her horses were literally standing in damp poop.
December also brought lots of snow — again — and I –again– shoveled my way to the stables every day.
I bought a draft excluder because the snow is blowing in under the door — along with cold wind.
The kitchen window, and the bedroom window are STILL not fixed, the damp and mold I fixed around the window is back with a vengeance, because the heating is OFF from 10:30pm to 6am. Down there, it’s fricken COLD.
Meanwhile she is bitching that there is “not enough bedding in the stalls” and tells me that she’ll put hers in the stable area in front of my boxes, so the stable is warm. (There’s not enough bedding for that, either.) Also, she tries to rent out the front area of the stable, but people who come to look don’t want DIY, they want full service — which she doesn’t want to do. (In hindsight, I’m glad she wasn’t offering full service — because I’d have ended up doing it.)
Well, if I had put in as much bedding as I *wanted* to put in — there wouldn’t have been any bedding left at all. Even so I supplemented with bales of shavings.
I was getting seriously fed up. Not just with the damp in the flat (my CLOTHES were MOLDY inside the wardrobe!!) but also with the constant “We’ll be back on Saturday, I’m leaving the dogs too.” — and no please or thank you. Just informing me when they will be back.
Not only that… She tells me on Wednesday that she needs to be at work early, and could I do the horses in the morning.
Sure.
On the Thursday? She left at 3pm!!! How is that “early”?
(This happened more than once)
Roll on January. More snow. I’m fed up with constantly fixing shit up, being left with horses, dogs and cats, picking the son up from the bus at 11pm…and whatever else.
Add to that the heating going off at 10:30pm and by 11:30pm you’re down to about 15C.
I finally found some hay, as well. ME. Not her, who has lived here for 25 years and knows the area, but me, who doesn’t know anyone.
So I order the hay to be delivered, because the snow is so bad we can’t get the trailer out.
The day the delivery is due — I’m on my own. 5 roundbales of hay. Into the barn, up a step, to the back.
You can’t drive in there with a front loader or anything, it has to be done by hand.
(And she never paid me back for her part of the delivery.)
In January I’m told to “empty the muck against the wall in here for insulation”.
She dumps HER muck into the front of the stable as well, and tells me “We’ll clear it out together when they go out.”
Okay. Fine. Everything is frozen anyway.
Then… February. It all comes to a head.
First the water pump packed up. No water. At all.
This includes the stables. I’m lugging buckets through the snow from the water trough outside my door — the only source of water there is.
So…no shower, no washing, no flushing the toilet (except with a bucket). Water pump was replaced, and all rejoice.
Then the heating oil ran out!
It was -28C outside, and there was NO HEATING.
This was taken in my kitchen. At 9am. This was in my bedroom.
And again in the kitchen, at 6:30pm — with the wood burner “on” — and barely lukewarm radiators, which went off again an hour later.
The cats and I were huddling under blankets and going to bed early because it was just not bearable.
For 2 weeks.
TWO WEEKS.
At MINUS 28!!!
Charging FULL RENT.
Bear in mind — no heating also means no hot water. So no showering either.
Yuck.
The mold was back with a vengeance, too. So no, it had nothing to do with the tarp. It had everything to do with NO HEATING and a window that’s not sealed properly!
My kitchen door was frozen on the inside and didn’t thaw for nearly 2 weeks. ICE on the INSIDE of the door!
I’m barricading the stable doors every night with a stack of hay, because the gaps are quite big and the wind is howling in.
I pack all the sides with straw (given to us by a friend of hers) so everything is insulated, because it’s getting really cold.
The water in her mare’s stable freezes in — but all my drinkers are working, because they are packed solid against the pipes with straw.
Her son leaves the stable door open so the horses can go in and out…
And the water in my stable freezes solid. (Their stable is on the other side of the wall to mine.)
Gee… I wonder why.
Then I get blamed for the water freezing because “There aren’t enough horses in here, and not enough bedding, no wonder the water freezes.”
Err… no. That would be because the door is open all day in -20C with a wind chill of -30C, and the water should have been turned off, because…hello.
But the “no heating” was the final straw. I was done.
A friend offered me a place to stay, and I was getting quotes for removals and horse transport.
On the 6th of March (because she wasn’t here before that) I gave notice that I’m moving on the 15th of May.
And the shit hit the fan.
First she didn’t accept the notice, because it wasn’t on the 3rd. (She wasn’t freaking around to accept it on the 3rd!)
Then the wording wasn’t to her liking.
I kept resending the damn notice every other day.
Then she’s telling me I have to pay rent until the 30th of JUNE, because “it wasn’t on time”.
(I am STILL looking after her animals every week!!!)
I book stuff. I’m done. VERY done.
Then I’m told “Leave the muck in the stable, I’m going to use it AS A BASE LAYER when I put my horses in.
(Oh-my-God.)
Instead of getting an extra load of shavings, she’s going to spread out a month’s worth of horse shit as a “Base Layer”!! And not even HER horse’s droppings!
What is WRONG with that woman?
Then she tells me at 5pm one night that people are coming to view the flat the next morning (!!!) at 11am.
I’m PACKING. The place looks like a bomb has hit it, because I pulled stuff out to pack and have piles of stuff sitting everywhere!!!
I spend the entire evening shoving stuff back into cupboards (yay), mopping floors, cleaning surfaces, bathroom, windows, redo the paint on the window — you name it, I did it.
I was done around midnight, and I hadn’t eaten. I just fell into bed, half dead.
Well, they didn’t take it, and insulted my cats on top of it all.
In April, I asked about the deposit (€700) and the money she owes me for horsefeed, meds and whatnot.
“I’ll transfer it” (Yeah, right.)
So I said it would be easier to just offset it against the rent, since I have to cancel the bank account here, as it can’t be done remotely.
“That’s not how it’s done, and you’re supposed to find me someone to rent, it’s the law.” (It isn’t.)
So I go “Well, you could accommodate me a little bit, after all, I’ve been looking after your animals every week since the year dot.”
AND SHE WENT OFF ON ME!
About how I hadn’t really given notice (LIKE HELL!!) because she didn’t get the revised email (which I sent TWICE, and she didn’t tell me she hadn’t got it!) and how “it was just feeding” and “No hardship.”
Erm.
Let me tell you how my winter days went, when I had horses, dogs and cats
I get up, get dressed, go outside — and start digging, at about 8am, when there’s enough light.
And I MEAN, digging. That’s a Barzoi dog. Not exactly the smallest breed out there…
By 8:30 I’ve dug my way up to (my) the stables. I go back down and let the dogs out, then go and feed my horses their grain.
I go in the small door of the barn and get the grain for her 4 horses.
I feed them and check them, then go back in the barn and drag two winter rugs off the clothes line where they hang, take them to the stable and rug two horses.
Then I put hay out for my horses (because I prepare it the day before) fill water buckets, change / put on rugs, and turn them out.
Then I shovel my way to the big barn door and dig that out so I can get it open.
I go back to the small barn door and up to open the big barn door from the inside.
I get the hay for the 4 horses and put it out for them, fill water buckets, then I turn them all out.
Then I go back to my stable and muck out.
Then I go and get the hay ready for the evening and for the next morning.
Then I put hay into the boxes her horses are in — where I can.
I put the rest of the hay ready for the evening by the side of the barn under the roof, so I don’t have to dig out the barn door again in the evening.
So far I’ve made about 6-8 trips to the barn.
The dogs get some breakfast.
I muck out the poop floor as best I can. Not that it makes any difference, since they stand in packed/frozen poop anyway. I’d have to dig down about a foot to hit actual dirt.
Empty all wheelbarrows and put them where they don’t get snowed in. Put the dogs back in the barn.
Time for MY breakfast.
I check water buckets about noon, let the dogs out again.
(FWIW — when I mentioned her horses had no water in their paddocks (!!!) I was told “I never put any out, they eat snow”
SERIOUSLY???)
At around 4pm I go out and let the dogs out. I either clear the snow again, or — if I’m lucky — go to my horses and bring them in.
Once they are in, I go down to her stables and put the hay into the mangers where I wasn’t able to in the morning.
The mare gets double the ration she normally gets, btw. Because normally, that horse — a 16.2h, 22 year old — had to make do with one bale of hay per day.
Remember — a bale weighs about 5kg. So she’s having 2.5kg hay per meal, twice a day. That’s not enough to keep a shetland pony alive, let alone a warmblood.
But, anyway.
Once the hay is done, I go get their evening feed, mix that up with grain and dish it into the troughs.
I go in, make up the feed for the next evening. (Soaked sugar beets)
Then I go and get the horses in.
Then I take the rugs off two horses.
Then I drag the wet rugs back into the heating cellar and hang them up.
Close the doors and done with the horses.
I still have to feed the dogs.
And the cats.
I go in and have some dinner.
At 11pm I run out, often in a snow storm, pouring rain, icy wind and what have you, to let the dogs out.
Now, there is NO LIGHT from my front door to the barn.
The light at the barn is hard to reach because there are old pitch forks and junk piled into that corner.
The light IN the barn is at the far end, again, hard to reach because of all the junk in front of it.
So I’m navigating with a torch — and I have the scars to prove it.
Fancy navigating this in the dark?
Or with two heavy horse rugs, for that matter?
So… that’s my day done then.
She calls this “Just feeding.”
I don’t think so.
So… the next day I get a text that is so incredibly rude, I didn’t bother to speak to her again.
Basically, it was “Because you are so overworked, I’ll take care of my animals myself. You can look after the garden slugs.” and some other rude stuff, accusing me of “using 4 stables but only paying for 2” and that “her generosity has limits”. Also that grazing season does not start earliest beginning of May and therefore my horses are not allowed on the grass. I don’t know about you, but that looks suspiciously like grazing horses to me.
It is now the 11th May — and my horses are still not allowed into the field — but hers are out. That’s the “4 stables” I am using.
I only see two horses, and 2 doors. So how can I use 4 stables, when there are only 2 boxes?
Screw them. Seriously.
They will blame anything that broke on me, to justify keeping the deposit, I know that.
However, if they do come after me… I will present them with a bill for services rendered.
That’ll be €450 per month, for pet sitting.
After all… 4 horses, 2 dogs (3 originally), 3 cats (4 originally) — try finding someone to pop in 3 times a day, 3 times a week, for less.
And that mare?
Yep. That’s what she looked like 3 weeks before I left.
It sickens me.
And she’s not the only one who looks bad, she’s just the worst one.
Yep. None of them look particularly healthy.
My last phone call and email before I left was to the Tierschutz (RSPCA/ASPCA) to report her. With photographs of how much feed, their condition, etc. Detailed info.
I hope they take the horses away.
Although, because they are all around 20, they’d probably get put down. :/
BTW — that bay? She RODE HIM in this condition, for about an hour. He kept tripping because his feet hadn’t been done in almost 8 months, and she kept yanking him up, scolding him: “Watch where you’re going.” That was the only time she got on any of those horses in the almost 2 years I was there.
I filled those buckets to the rim on the Saturday morning. (They were coming back Sat Eve.)
It was 28C. This was taken Sunday evening around 8pm, and it had been another scorcher that day. They still hadn’t been refilled from my last fill on Saturday morning. I know they weren’t, because the hose pipe was still in the exact same position I left it. (Which was the reason I checked, because I went to refill all the buckets for my boys, and wondered why the hose hadn’t moved.)
I filled them. They were home. They didn’t give a shit that their horses were standing in their paddock without any water.
This was in April btw. The busted water pipe (which completely flooded Stormy’s stable) wasn’t fixed, so all the water was turned off and we (mostly me) were lugging buckets or dragging hose pipes around. It still wasn’t fixed when I left on the 17th May.
I honestly don’t know what the hell happened between my moving there, and the shit that started in Autumn 2017. I didn’t think much of it around September 2017. But by December, I knew I had to get out. It just got worse and worse, and the no heating, no water, mold and whatnot… Nope. Just, nope.
She also bitched about my leaving “when I know she’s on holiday”.
Actually?
The only reason I didn’t leave in MARCH, was because there was too much snow to get the removal lorry in, and safely load my stuff, and I could be (reasonably) sure that in May there wouldn’t be any snow on the ground!
So on the 17th May, the second the last item was on the lorry, I packed the cats in the car and left. Without saying goodbye, or anything. I just left. Cheering when I pulled away.
My contract said I have to paint the entire apartment before I leave.
Well, considering she charged me full rent the entire time (including when there were no horses — so it should be €200 less) and she had absolutely no intention to pay back the deposit… and I had already painted the place once, because of the mold — AND it hadn’t been freshly painted when I moved in — screw them.
So now we’re in France, about as far away from that place as is possible.
And that’s an entirely different story. 🙂