#the things i could do with my own enclosed paddock

[hoochieblues]

paddock adventures, part ?/?

We were supposed to take both foster dogs up to the paddocks for a free run and some socialisation today, but plans changed and poor Chance didn't get to go. Peppy, however, got to meet the people who saved her life by sponsoring her release from the kill shelter.

Warm fuzzy feels ensued.

So, anyone who I've bored with my involvement in European rescue has an idea of how this stuff works. Romania (which is where most of my fosters come from) has an endemic street dog problem, thanks in part to Ceaușescu's forced industrialization program in the 80s, and - today - a number of other issues that Romanian animal welfare groups are working hard to combat, not least the 2013/4 culling legislation. The kill shelters are frequently violent places, and do not euthanize humanely.

The only reason rescues - either domestic or international - are able to get dogs released from kill shelters, thus delaying the culls, is thanks to sponsors, who sponsor a dog's release and care in a safe foster shelter in Romania, where they can be assessed and then adopted or, in the case of those who need some extra tlc, brought to a foster home prior to adoption.

Sponsors are amazing and we love them. Literally, from ~25EUR/month cosponsor, you save a life and do a little bit towards campaigning for better animal welfare and an end to culling. <3

Here's where Peppy started out. Terrified, defensive, so very smol:

Thanks to her sponsors, she's been able to come to a foster home, where she's working on her trauma/anxiety (...aren't we all?) and she's now more than ready for adoption (third application's the charm, we hope... when/if she gets one...).

Today was so nice, because her sponsors recently lost their elderly dog, but got to meet an individual whose life they saved. She loved hanging out with them, and her friend Lou (even if he gave zero fucks about playing with her today), and getting as many tummy rubs and pets as caninely possible. Which is a lot. Great socialisation for her, a happy day for them. Win-win, I think.

Pictured: pocket rocket and bombastic side eye, and approximately 0.8 seconds before Louis got bowled over. Bless.

Given that so many stories in sponsorship and rescue do not have happy endings, it was lovely to see her get a good day out and a nice free run... and almost as many tummy rubs as she could handle.

Next step: finding that elusive forever home.

[joaoista]

《More than colleagues, they are my family》

❤️Charlos + mention of Arthur/Ollie 💛One-shot (+1.4k words) 🤍Fluff + family bonding time (sort of)

Oliver waited patiently inside the Ferrari motorhome. He had already gone through multiple interviews making statements here and there. He received congratulations from many important people in the world of motorsport, feeling fortunate to have so much support from those he admires. Even his father was there to celebrate with him this first great milestone in his career in the highest category of motorsport. The only thing missing was to celebrate with a well-known duo from the paddock that he considered equally important as another member of his family.

And it was with them in mind that the first figure crossed the entrance, giving him a friendly smile before approaching him.

“You did very well, mate”, Charles' words were imbued with genuine affability, as he watched the youngest in depth.

He already knew that look. Eyes narrowed, bright with emotion. It was undoubtedly...

Pride. Pride for him.

Ollie felt himself reverberating in his seat with ill-contained emotion. It was because of it that he couldn't help but jump out of his chair and rush over to Charles, wrapping his lanky arms around him in a tight hug.

“Yes, we were a great team today! One of the best!”, he exclaimed. Enthusiasm pouring through his pores.

However, his mind clicked. He quickly pulled away from Charles. A thin layer of blush sprinkled over his cheeks, embarrassed, mentally scolding himself for getting caught up in the emotion of the moment and acting impulsively accordingly.

He was just about to shout an apology when the Monegasque took him in his arms again, reciprocating the congratulatory embrace.

“Oh, come here Ollie”, the older man murmured. Oliver felt his eyes slowly blurring, feeling himself almost completely overcome by the accomplishment of the feat he had achieved tonight.

He was going to allow himself to collapse in the midst of Charles' comforting embrace, but an intrusion awaited deep down by him made an appearance, startling him and watching as he stole the second of the Leclerc brothers' breath away.

‘They're so obvious’, Bearman thought with amusement and affection.

“Carlos”, he's pretty sure he could hear the smitten sigh leave Charles' lips.

“P3, not bad, my Lord Perceval”, the Spaniard walked in their direction with a slow step. Appreciation painted all over the eldest's eyes as he focused on his mate from Monaco.

“I would be offended if you thought otherwise. The fight to see who can cut the Red Bulls' streak started last week.”

“As well as the other inside bet we have”, Leclerc was the one who ended up closing the distance between them, lightly tapping the other's shoulder for the joke. He then went on to take Sainz's hands in his own.

Well, maybe he was interrupting a scene that did not concern him.

“And look who's here, the golden boy from Maranello. Congratulations on your big debut, Ollie”, although, he dismissed that thought quickly. Of course, they would not turn his presence away no matter how enclosed they were in their bubble.

Eagerly he ran to the Spaniard. “Carlos!”

He was about to hug him. However, he remembered the problem the pilot was bringing with him, so he abruptly stopped his action. Nevertheless, Carlos gave him a nod, indicating that such a hug was welcome.

“Go ahead, Ollie. Just don't push too hard.”

Oliver hugged him with a little less intensity than he hugged Charles, but with the same enthusiasm and appreciation he showed for him. He was still grateful for the advice he provided before the race, even in a state of recovery he made sure to instruct him as best he could to get the most out of the car.

How can you not love Charles and Carlos?

“I'm still sorry to hear about your operation. Also, I'm so glad you're doing well.”

‘And that you're here with us.’

Sainz just denied. “Nothing to be sorry about, Ollie. You did amazing out there and you were able to get the most out of the car. I'm very proud of you.”

Proud of you.

Something throbbed inside Bearman's chest. His eyes misted over again.

“Of both of you. You did a great job.”

“Thank you, Carlos”, he murmured, trying to hold back tears. He gave them both his big smile that exposed his pearly teeth, typical of when he was very happy.

They accompanied the Spaniard to take a seat on the couch in the motorhome, settling in to have their own post-race chat without interruption from third parties and in the intimacy of their circle.

“You know, I would have really liked him to be here.”

Both pairs of eyes stared at him, instantly picking up on who he was referring to.

“You haven't talked to him?” Carlos asked, surprised.

“Curiously, from him was the first message I received on my cell phone congratulating me on my performance. He beat my whole family, even”, mention to them incredulously, but bubbling inside with raw emotion at the gesture.

“Well, I think it's time to give this to you...”, Charles mentioned, as he stood up to get a marbled gift bag. He handed it to him without further thought.

“What?”, Oliver's astonished intonation echoed through the room, still taking the gift in bewilderment. A maroon sweater, a box of biscuits, and a pink rose lay inside.

“Arthur sent it to you. He strictly told me to give it to you as soon as we finished our routine post-race activities. Oh, and he also said there's a surprise waiting for you at Maranello. Apparently, he stayed up late into the night working on this”, he held out his cell phone, showing him his gallery.

A picture of a Ferrari cap with the number ‘38’ stitched on the side of the visor, revealing the face of a small teddy bear woven with brown threads on the inside, was all over the screen. The sender? None other than Arthur Leclerc.

Ollie's eyes opened wide, intensifying that characteristic gleam in them. With trembling hands, he picked up Charles' phone, trying to process the situation. He swallowed in a vain attempt to undo the lump in his throat.

‘Oh, Arthur...’, he mumbled in his head, being a teary mess inside.

“Charles, I think that was only for you to see, not the boy”, Sainz catches his eye, pointing out the obvious detail. The Monegasque froze in place.

“Aïe... I'm sorry? Please pretend I didn't show you anything and act surprised when he gives you the cap”, a nervous laugh bursts from his lips, apologizing for the oversight over and over again.

But, for Oliver, it is more than clear that he will not be able to forget that fact so easily. If he felt his heart was already filled with so much affection for the people around him, it undoubtedly overflowed with love when he learned of the gift Arthur had painstakingly prepared for him, in addition to what he had made him get with his brother.

How to stop the growing infatuation for his former academy classmate if he took great pains every day to surprise and entertain him, even when he did not know the effect it has on him? An impossible mission that he has no intention of stopping.

“And I want to hug Arthur so much because of that...”, He added in a dreamy tone, forgetting for an instant that he was still in company. “No, I...! I...! Now you pretend I didn't say that about your brother, please”, he pleaded with a wail, the color of his cheeks matching the color of the Cavallino Rampante car.

“Now I'm supposed to call him ‘brother-in-law’?”, Carlos annoyed him with a clearly amused tone.

“Carlos!”

“Mmm... I think the four of us should have a dinner party, don't you, Ollie?”, his partner followed his lead, laughing softly.

“Charles!”, implored the Englishman, flushed with embarrassment.

Leclerc only let out another small laugh at Oliver's embarrassed expression. He wasn't going to lie; he was enjoying the somewhat familiar atmosphere that spread between the three of them. It was almost the same feeling witnessed being with his own family and he didn't dislike it at all. He liked it.

Now recomposed from his sultry moment of the day, he approached the red-clad couple and enclosed them both in a final embrace, feeling that last thread that held him fastened to the illusion that this race was a mere fantasy finally break and the bucket full of reality spilling over him.

He felt warm and very happy.

“It's good to have you on the team, Ollie”, Charles whispered, returning the hug. Carlos nodded at his words.

‘It's good to have you two with me.’

[First time posting a fic here jaja! Spreading the Arthur/Ollie propaganda, tho -gets hit-. I really enjoyed writing a fluffy moment between these three, so, I hope you like it! ^^💖]

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2021

No. 10 - flare-up

Fo.A. 3

"I'm used to more lavish welcoming ceremonies."

"Ada, by the …" Tarisilya startled so much that her mare grumpily nipped her arm because she'd come a little too close to Manyala's sensitive belly with her grooming brush. "Sorry, sweetie." She breathed a kiss of apology to the animal's velvety nose and hurried to the fence of the settlement's paddock to properly greet her father-in-law. It was a shameful proof of her limited attentiveness at the moment that she hadn't noticed the quick hoof steps of a certain tall, spotted mount approaching from the riverside earlier. When one was so lost in their mind from trying to sense even the smallest cold breeze of fear or the threatening pressure of emptiness in their mental bond to their husband, the world right around them tended to lose color and sound. Besides, her settlement was not yet prepared for a guest, especially not one of such high honor. "I didn't expect you before tomorrow night." Remembering very well that Thranduil was just as little enthusiastic with too much touch, safe from closest family members, as she was, she restricted herself to a brief bow and a warm smile when the King put a his hand on her shoulder across the top bar for an appreciative moment.

  "There was little reason to stop along the way. Hotspots of crisis in my realm are rare these days, thankfully. So we could make haste." Thranduil rewarded his own mare with an amicable pat of her neck for her endurance and brought her inside the generously enclosed meadow for a little grass and water. "And your message sounded urgent."

  "It wasn't meant to." Tarisilya raised an eyebrow in surprise. As glad as she was for Thranduil's support in the current situation, she honestly hadn't meant to sound that alarming. Apparently, her letter had been clear enough anyway. After the issues and fights the two of them had had in the past, sometimes, she still had to recall to mind how empathic and insightful her father-in-law could be when he wasn't busy drowning his sorrows and frustration in a wine bottle. "You must be hungry if you rode through the night. Let's go to the fire. I'm afraid, most people are either out working already or not yet up, so we'll have to postpone a celebration."

  "You didn't call me here for an early Midsummer, Ilya. Speak, please." With an impatient sounding sigh, Thranduil unclasped his robe, revealing a resilient travel garb of leather that didn't make Tarisilya feel that inadequate with her messy bun and her well-worn stable dress anymore, and freed his mare of his small travel bag around her neck, so that she could wander off toward the water through. The King had obviously not prepared for a longer stay, Tarisilya noticed with a twinge of regret. Which was very understandable. So shortly after the war, there was still a lot to do in his Kingdom, even after the destruction of Dol Guldur and many of his people leaving for the west.

  She shouldn't be stealing more of his precious time than he could spare. And yet, with how things had developed after she'd sent that pigeon, she was glad that this time, she had mustered up the courage to ask for help quickly enough. And that Legolas and she had found back to their mutually respectful and considerate relationship from their early years by now, to a point where there was no more need to have such a conversation that was meant to be for his sake in secret. "It would be fair if we waited for your son to return."

  "He's out at this time?" Thranduil's skeptical eyes turned to the purple clouds and the last of fading stars above for a moment. Of course, he would know his only child well enough – contrary to certain vicious rumors – to remember that Legolas was very much enjoying not having to rise before the sun did, now that the duties of defense and battle were over. And Legolas' letters home about the settlement's progress were frequent enough to also be able to tell, there weren't many projects in the wilderness of Ithilien that demanded his presence in person at this point.

  Right now, keeping things in order in the camp itself was more important for him and Tarisilya, and she couldn't deny, that made things a lot easier. Not only because she'd had to do without her husband for far too many stretches in her life, not even only because their son, like all elven children, needed both parents by his side in his first few years as much as possible, seeing as they had already risked his wellbeing by spending far too much time apart during her pregnancy. Having Legolas around a lot also freed her of the constant anxiety of him possibly getting himself in trouble in the middle of an area still filled with last stray enemies, because his health suddenly failed him. "A ride in the woods with Cyron and Thondrar." She went back to brush her mare's black fur with mechanical, absent movements. There had not been a lot of sleep in the last few weeks, and the constant, panicked lookout in a mind that was not her own for signs of trouble was sapping her strength reserves. "Eru knows how long it took me to convince him to take one of the others with them. It's not like I don't get it, you know? Cyron is getting big enough to be curious about riding and the wood life himself. Of course, he wanted to be alone with him. But Cyron is far too small to even sit for long on his own yet, leave alone ride. Thinking they'd be out there alone if something happens, and I wouldn't even know where to look …"

  "Ilya." Only when her father-in-law grabbed her hand and held it tight, she realized she'd been cleaning Manyala's left foreleg for the third time in a row. "What is it?"

  "He stopped going on hunts, ada." Dropping the brush, she pressed her face against her mare's neck with a shaky sigh, trying to keep herself together. Thranduil was the last person she wanted to be weak in front of, still.

  "Ilya …"

  "No, you don't understand. He keeps on saying, it's no longer fun or that he has more important jobs to do now, but that's not it. It's his eyes. He's started missing his shots again." She gratefully reached back when that narrow, strong hand was back on her shoulder, not surprised to feel that Thranduil's skin had turned colder under the thin leather of his glove. They'd both thought they had more time before this would happen again.

  "I can call one of our healers here," the King said after a few seconds of heavy silence. "Some are still left in the woods who know his case from the start. I've made sure he went to see them whenever he was in the palace ever since that accident happened back then. They never had much success, I'm afraid. But if you need support …"

  "No … Yes … I don't know." Tarisilya shrugged her unoccupied shoulder and wiped her eyes quickly on her mount's fur, thankfully caressing Manyala's fine head when her loyal companion nosed her side. It felt like it had only just been yesterday since she'd finally got her beloved horse back from Rohan, and they had not been out there for a long ride in years. It would have been very tempting, going on another journey. Too tempting, bordering on selfish. The settlement needed Legolas and her as often as they could be around, and Tarisilya was forced to help out in the Houses of Healing often enough as it was. They did still have their own life too, though. And depending on when Thranduil would finally overcome his pride and admit, he'd long stopped really being at home in a place far from everyone he loved, she might not have many chances to see his Kingdom before it would no longer be what it was. "Maybe we'll come to visit you soon. Cyron hasn't seen Mirkwood yet, at least not in a way he can remember. I think we still have time before the next bout will come. And it is unlikely that even our common gift can make any kind of difference. Whenever I try to feel what's wrong with Legolas' eyes, I'm running into a wall in his head. Until such time when they will fail him again, I need to learn as much as possible about things I have not been taught in my healer training, simply because we never had a case like his in Lórien or the other realms of Men and Elves I have visited."

  "I am not a healer, Ilya." The gentle pressure of Thranduil's touch growing, he turned her around, the slightly awkward but very understanding brush of knuckles against her cheeks drying her tears.

  His hand was shaking slightly, so she reached for it with both of hers, humming the warmth back into it with a few well-trained notes. She needed to remember more often that the best cure for the soul was often comforting others. And in this certain regard, as much distance as there had been between father and son in the last few millennia, Thranduil was decades, miles ahead of her. "No, but the only one he trusts with his condition. He's still trying to go easy on me with it, no matter what I do. This needs to stop, ada. I don't want to go behind his back ever again. That's why you're here. Show me what I need to know. Show me what he needs when the darkness comes back." It became almost frighteningly silent in their little remote corner at the camp's edge. It took Tarisilya several seconds to realize, she'd all but frozen, paralyzed by the intense look from the same ocean blue pair of eyes that her husband had mesmerized her with all these centuries ago, the burning ice in her father-in-law's pupils intimidating as ever, though. And for a – fortunately respectfully shallow – glimpse, they'd stared right into their soul.

  With a choked gasp, she broke away from Thranduil's hold, and he bowed his head to her in apology, but that disapproving, worried frown above his thick brows remained. "It's been years, Ilya. Have you two still not established a proper marriage bond?"

  She wasn't sure what exactly that had to do with anything but felt the need to draw up her defenses anyway, turning away with tight lips to approach a firmly locked box by the fence, to get an apple or two for Manyala's breakfast. "When do you think we had time for something like that? We have a settlement to lead, and in every minute that does not require our attention, we're there for Cyron."

  "A bond shouldn't be something you have to work on in the first place. It's usually there right after the first unification." Thranduil sounded about as enthusiastic about the unwanted image of an official ending to a wedding ceremony in his head as Tarisilya, who was glad he couldn't see her intense blush from over there. "My wife and I, we were out of duty for weeks after our vows. When souls connect like that, you have to learn anew where your own body and mind begins and where your lover's ends."

  "Well, not everyone has thousands of years to get to know your partner before saying, I do," Tarisilya answered with more bite than she'd planned to use, in the light of a rather unfair reproach for someone who'd been responsible personally for Legolas and her never having a proper courting period. "It's been thanks to Lady Galadriel's and your quarrel that I had to wait a millennium for your son to acknowledge his feelings for me. So might want to look in the mirror if you need someone to blame for us not being able to completely fall into each other yet."

  When she returned, a couple of neatly cut apple slices in hand, there was something sparkling in Thranduil's eyes that she couldn’t quite place, which was just as unusual as the King not trying to argue with her about this, and she wondered if there was a joke somewhere in this whole story that she'd missed. For some reason, he decided not to press it, and it was probably better that way. She had a feeling, she didn't want to know. "If it's time you need, time you shall have. Find me a pigeon that knows their way to Eryn Lasgalen. It would seem, I will need more than two robes and a couple of rings and necklaces for this stay."

  It was an offer, Tarisilya had not expected. For the first time in weeks, she felt like she could breathe a little easier again. Feeding Manyala slowly, piece by piece, she tried to get her exhausted thoughts in order, make a real sense of Thranduil's unexpected inquisition earlier, in vain. "Can you stay away for so long?"

  "I'm the King. Who's supposed to stop me?" Her father-in-law chuckled, but it didn't sound too happy. "It's about high time I get to know my grandchild better anyway. Make use of that chance, Ilya. I can tell you what you need on your talan to make life there easier for someone who loses their most important sense. I can teach you how to write books and draw images that you don't need your eyes to understand for. But if you really want to support your husband in this, you need to be closer to him than I ever managed to get. He and I, we are trying, as you know, but I do not think we have enough time left in these realms to mend all that is broken. It would ease my mind to know that even if I should not be around one day, he will not be alone in the dark."

  "Never, ada." This was a promise she could give him with all of her heart.

  For someone who was not used to either deal out or receive a lot of touch, Thranduil gave amazingly comfortable hugs, it turned out.

  When they both weren't close to tears anymore and finally got around to finish taking care of their horses, Arod's cheerful neighing in the distance announced their family's return.. 

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober2021​ | @whumptober-archive

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Saturday 1 August 1835

6 25

11 20

No kiss. At my desk at 7 25 at which hour F65° and fine morning - at George’s account and settled with Turner for stones and to come again tonight with estimate for stones for the tail goit - then breakfast at 8 50 - meant to have been off to Halifax to the District bank but Greenwood came convenient enough - I wanted to speak to him about sawyers etc but he came to speak about the letting Nelson have the Northgate house job - poor G- in a nervous agony about it - could scarce speak - damp cold pallor over his face - almost in tears - it was unfairly let  - Helm’s the lower estate and it was to go to the lowest - Helm a very honest man - should have his Greenwoods buildings without estimate - it was not he (Helm) who said anything against me - no ! he said perhaps it was for the best - ‘I had been over-seen’ but I had told him  I might have other building to do and I should not forget him - G- hoped I should excuse his coming to tell me - it was for my interest - ‘they’  (the town I suppose) might oppose me - might oppose my getting a licence - I had done wrong - I heard him very quietly then said what I had done could not be altered now - but I had done right according to my own judgment and conscience and if the town could act so unjustly as to oppose me, they might - if I could not get a licence I had immediately change my plan, and trouble myself very little about it - I wished Mr Harper to decide but he declined doing so, and I had therefore decided as I had told Brian Helm in a moment as  every might and ought to do in a case like this where right principle was the only guide  - I had taken the lower estimate - the case Mr Harper said was singular - yes! but I thought it clear - the price given for the old materials had nothing to do with the estimate of the work - I had a right to do as I liked about the materials - N-‘s estimate of the work was the lower by about £3.15.0 I believed and I had taken - when G- heard the price of the old materials he said he himself would have given £200 for them - if, said I, I had known that in time you should have had them - these were mine to do as I liked with - on hearing my explanation and seeing me so clam yet decided, G- began gradually to cool and said the thing was misrepresented - it only wanted explaining - I told him what I had said both to Nelson and Helm - adding that after the inquiry I had made, it certainly appeared to me that N- was the more experience person - BH owned he had never done any columns - à la longue - G-

SH:7/ML/E/18/0072

became reconciled and talked what he could do if he did set up the Inn - I mentioned his wife’s remark that they might as well put a stick into the house as herself and that G- had as many irons in the fire as he could cool - he said well! but he was master - yes! but said I, she must be mistress or it will not do -‘well! but she does not say so much to me’ - perhaps said I she might be fearful of speaking so plainly before you - however you must judge as well as you can - he said people asked if he would ruin Carr - no! he answered he would say all he could for him to me; but if he C- did not get it, it was another thing - well! said I, I will exonerate you on this point - you have already said enough to save your credit if you never say anymore - but I have not said C- shall have it - he has made no application to me - what have to expect from such a character? Remember the trick he played me about the manure - besides, his immorality is a disgrace - G- said yes! it was and he was very domineering and disagreeable - then inquired about the Hope coach - said I was going to London - bade G- take the 4 inside places and one outside for Monday morning to Sheffield if he could - ordered about hat-bore lined with coarse flannel to be sent home tonight - spoke about Charles H- G- said 2 1/2d. per yard in length would be enough for sawing up rails and settling them - the oaks-logs to remain where they are till my return and then go to Greenwoods to be cut up - G- thinks the Inn will pay me 7 ½ pc. in ten years - on going out found Wheatley the veterinary surgeon come to look at A-‘s pony - something of a splent and liquid blister should be applied - said I was satisfied to find him of my own opinion - George to call tonight for stuff and directions - W- agreed with me, it would be well to let the pony be from 8 to 9 am and from 6 to 7 pm in the paddock, and this would save the trouble of walking her above and would answer much better - then desired W- to examine the old mare – her jole already affected - thinks her not that bad enough to infect the other horses, but she ought to be kept apart - better to put her out of the way - then with my father and Marian - spoke about the mare - my father said nothing against it, but seemed hurt - perhaps it will be best to put the mare away and say no more about it - then had Mr Husband who brought the plans of the water wheel etc from Mr Harper - told  Mr Husband merely to make me out an account of Charles H-‘s work done on  Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday and in fact this week, and keep an account of what more he did during my absence - said I had spoke to him this morning he was now gone about wood and making a sluice for Spiggs loose a job  which the coal agent would settle about - Reminded Mr Husband that he was in a situation where 100 eyes would be upon him, he must do the best he could and his best plan would be to consult no interest but that of his employer - if there was the least rent to be found, it would be torn from top to bottom - I was anxious for him to be cautious - I said this in consequence of what G- told me - in his agony, he said, he admired Helm who had acted quite independently and never gone near Husband who had said in his G-‘s presence 3 times, and he G- would swear to it and had once thought of telling Mr Harper last night that he (Mr H-) could put £500 into any mason’s pocket and G- thought that very strong and improper language - yes! said I and very wrong and imprudent - I shall not forget it - but if there is anything to be laid against him it must be proved and then he will be off at a tangent - well, said G-, but he  shall be watched - I thanked G- said I should be much obliged to him to keep a sharp look-out, and only advised him to do it as quietly as possible - Perhaps G- had some interest in being for BH-? I shall ponder these things - I am more and more persuaded that the choice of N- was right G- said at last, he had no doubt, he could get a licence - no! no! the house will be licensed - I told G- if he meant to set it up, he had better say nothing and go and consult Gunter in London as to the manner of setting out tables etc G- having said he had seen as much of this sort of thing as Carr, and could buy in horses as well, but did not so well understand coaching -  Having G-  Wheatley and Husband for 3 or 4 minutes and writing the whole so far of today took me till 2 5 - then counting over the money to take to the bank   A- in bad humour about something and copying old parchments again  so I kept aloof   A- off on her pony to Cliff hill at 3 - I wrote and sent John off immediately with note to ‘Messrs. Rawson, Bankers, Halifax’ enclosing to Mr R- fifty pounds in Bank of England ‘on account of the new museum, making the amount of her subscription paid on that account £150’ - a little while talking to Marian and then at 3 ½ off to Halifax down the old bank to the Yorkshire District bank - asked what they would charge upon remitting £100 to London - answer 5/. i.e. 1/4p.c. their usual mode of doing business - to those who have an account with them they give and take 4p.c. and charge ¼ p.c. on all on business done - all bills paid whether in London or elsewhere but that ¼ p.c. includes postage and everything - said I had found fault at another bank with the charge of ¼ p.c. on remittances to London - I would consider about it  - walked off up the street round into Waterhouse street - doubted when opposite the Join stock whether to see what I could do with Mr Carr - then remembered Marian’s telling me her friend was one of the managers to whom all my concerns must be known - turned back to the Yorkshire District bank - asked to be shewn into their private room and opened an account with them leaving £1800 in Bank of England  20s.10.and 5s. and gave Mr. Rawson’s £5 for an order for £4.10.0 payable to ‘George Buckle Esquire’ (on a sheet of letter paper - in payment of his bill for the copies of wills for A- received this morning per parcel) -  returned up the old bank by Whiskam road to where Robert S- and his man Joseph Sharpe were gas-tarring the railing that parts off the new field road - left orders for all the gas-tarring to be done and the railing between Carr and my father to be done over again (i.e. 2nd time) and then if any time to spare during my absence Park-farm wood the little seedling oaks to have the grass cut from around them for 4 or 5 inches breadth and hedges to be cleaned - passed Walker pit - nobody there- sometime in Conery wood - saw A- returned about 5 ¼ - Mark Town came to me in the approach road - I see he would be glad to take the purchase of the cottage himself and said if George N-‘s farm was to sell Mr Ackroyd’s manager Mr Ingham would advance him (Mark) money to pay for it with - told him to make up

SH:7/ML/E/18/0073

 his mind to leave things as already agreed upon - I would take the cottage and do what he wanted he remembering his own proposal to pay me 1/. in the pound on all laid out - I wanted no better agreement - Had Charles H- also in the approach road - told him to saw up and set double railing round Mytholm dam, and to guard the trees in the Wheat field and in George R-‘s upper daisy bank, and enlarge 2 or 3 of the guards in Carr’s Shibden Land but 1st to get the Spiggs Loose shuttle done, and his work should be examined and reckoned upon on my return - told him to put up notice against hunters and trespassers in such places and as many as he thought would be best and enough, the printed notices being left with my aunt - paid Charles H- and Robert Schofield up tonight, and gave the latter £2 on a/c of walling done along the ft. of Bairstow - Dinner at 6 ½ - coffee - A- went upstairs I to my father and Marian for ¼ hour - said A- had a headache - It was bad humour did not like sometimes going from home with me and sometimes not   very different from what she expected   I could not at first guess what she meant   on explanation after coming up from my father she did not like my not taking her to Richmond Park but leaving her to call on or rather spend the day with Mrs Plowes   I explained affectionately and calmly  she cried and said she knew I should think it nothing and only turn  it against her as I had done two or three times before   she thought the sooner we parted the better   I said my greatest and first wish was her happiness if I could not make her happy I only hoped someone else might succeed better etc etc   very kind and affectionate said were I in her place I should not like being taken  as it were  to be looked [at]  I thought it bad taste but it should be as she liked  oh no but she had expected very different  something led to my recalling my expression about old Mrs Saltmarshe that perhaps it might be in her power to introduce Catherine Rawson then  said A- you should not not have claimed powers you did not possess  I reminded her of my saying I hoped to succeed but if I could not my failure would be better than many people’s success   but if left to do my own way I did not despair - she by and by came round  kissed me etc.   I took all well but thinking to myself    there is danger in the first mention  the first thought that it is possible for us to part   time will shew  I shall try to be prepared for whatever may happen 25 minutes with my aunt till 10 20 - very fine day F69° at 10 20 pm

[jeremystrele]

At Home With Designer Jason Mowen In Murrurundi, New South Wales

At Home With Designer Jason Mowen In Murrurundi, New South Wales

Interiors

Victoria Carey

‘The garden is rambling and romantic, with lots of established trees and incredible bird life’, says Jason. Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

The IKEA shelves were powder-coated white and are filled with the interior designer’s extensive collection of books. Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

Built in 1905 from cypress pine timber, Dovecot also has several huge pine trees that cast a lovely, dappled shade in parts of the garden. Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

‘I see the whole thing as a labour of love and a bit of a laboratory in which to restore without doing the classic rip-it-all-out renovation’, says Jason. Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

An eclectic yet harmonious collection. Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

Looking across the living room to the enclosed section of the verandah. The artworks hanging above the doorway are, left to right: painting by American Artist Seann Brackin; work on paper by Spanish artist Ramon Canet; painting by Brazillian-born artist Eduardo Santos. The works on the bottom left is by photographer Simon Strong and painter Robert Doble. Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

A section of the verandah on one side of the house has been enclosed to create a wonderful breezy spot to sit in summer. The rustic table and chairs are Equipale, a style of pigskin and timber furniture made in Mexico, and were brought by Jason’s mother in the late 1980s. Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

The garden has become a focus for Jason since moving to the country. Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

A work on paper by friend Robert Doble in the hallway. Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

The bedrooms lead off the central hallway. Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

The house is surrounded by open verandahs on three sides. Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

One of Jason’s major considerations for his new home was that his mother’s horses could be nearby.  Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

One of Jason’s favourite walks on the outskirts of town. Photo – Nicola Sevitt.

Jason Mowen waited until he was 45 to buy his first house. But this interior designer’s choice of a weatherboard cottage in the country four-and-half-hours north of Sydney was a surprise to many. “My friends thought I was crazy, but the more people told me not to do it, the more determined I became,” Jason says today, sitting in his elegant book-lined living room in Murrurundi, a NSW town famous for the thoroughbred studs dotted throughout the area.

The horse connection is an important one in this story. Based in Sydney’s inner-city Darlinghurst for a decade, Jason is the first to admit that on the surface his decision to opt for rural life was a surprising one, until you learn he grew up on a property in the rolling green hills around Maleny in Queensland.

“My mother and grandfather used to breed racehorses and I remember her speaking of Murrurundi when I was a kid.  Then I went to university in Armidale in the early 90s and I always remembered this quaint little town with the long name that I used to drive through on my way to Sydney,” he explains.

“I drove through again in late 2015 and just fell in love with the place.  It felt unspoiled: it wasn’t gentrified nor ruined with bad development.  It was also really affordable and I loved that no-one back in Sydney had heard of it.”

On top of Jason’s lists of requirements was a place where his mother Jicky would also be happy to spend time. This meant any prospective new home needed to be in an area where this accomplished horsewoman’s beloved horses could be nearby — four of them are now on agistment in a nearby paddock — and so the search for a house began. Luckily, Jason was prepared to be patient because it was nearly a year before the right one came along.

Walking around the garden on a late afternoon, it’s easy to understand why, even though he had not originally planned to live in the property full time, Jason soon began to find it harder and harder to leave this quiet sanctuary with its abandoned tennis court and majestic pine trees soaring into the sky.

“In late 2019, I decided to give up the apartment I’d been renting for 10 years in Darlinghurst and move to the home I loved, and owned, in Murrurundi, as I felt I could do much of my work remotely,” he explains.

Built in 1905, the house is called Dovecot — a name Jason was originally puzzled by until he learnt more about its past. “There is no actual dovecot [a structure for housing doves or pigeons] so I couldn’t understand why it had been named that until I discovered it was built by a man named George Dove — so, house of the Dove — which I absolutely love. I bought the house from his granddaughter, Judy, who was born and lived all her life here.  It has a really good energy.  Judy was a lovely person, greatly esteemed in Murrurundi, and there was obviously a lot of love in this house over the years.”

Jason is gradually learning more and more about the history of Dovecot — just as he is with his holiday home in Italy. “Dovecot was my first house and then, just a few years later, I decided to buy a holiday place in Europe,” says Jason. After discovering how successfully he can work remotely from Murrurundi, he is hoping to spend three months a year at his second le casa — one half of a rustic palazzo dating back to 1580 — in Matino in Puglia.

“I see my life in the future, once things get back to normal, as living between Matino and Murrurundi. I’ve always been a bit of a gypsy and usually spend five to seven years in a place before moving on but I do love Murrurundi. It allows you to be quieter, which is great for inspiring both creativity and contentment.  And being surrounded by such great beauty — the beauty of this wonderful old home and garden and the surrounding natural beauty of the mountains and landscape — I’ve lived all over the world and it just doesn’t get better than that.”

This story originally appeared on Michael Reid Murrurundi in March 2021. 

[yatorihell]

In The Darkness Chapter 25 - The Hippogriff

Words: 2,607

Summary: Yato’s punishment isn’t as bad as it seems - and it looks like it can help Hiyori.

Previous chapter | First chapter

Thank you Ina @leopah for beta-ing me <3

Happy birthday Pip (@paperypiper)!

Read on AO3

"Oh, look, more shit."

A forlorn expression crossed Yato’s face as he looked at the latest gift for him, leaning on his shovel with a melodramatic sigh.

When he’d been put to work for the Groundskeeper, this wasn’t what he had in mind.

Picking herbs? Sure. Tending the cow-sized pumpkins for Halloween? Why not. Shovelling Hippogriff dung? No way.

Hiyori tutted at him when he revealed his punishment, telling him he deserved it for ‘obstructing other people’s learning,’ whilst Yukine told him not to do anything stupid.

Yato scoffed, and, although he’d seen them in books, seeing them in real life for the first time had stupefied him into a reverent awe.

Hippogriffs were magical of course, but in essence they were half-horse, half-eagle. Powerful hind legs stomped the ground, the front two of which had fierce talons six inches long. Short hair gave way to downy feathers running down their chests and necks to heads that were much larger than a normal bird’s, and much deadlier.

The Hippogriffs in the paddock were various shades of tawny chestnuts and snow whites, along with a couple of palomino and appaloosa which bled their colours over the short hair of their hindquarters and the feathered wings folded neatly to their sides.

Yato’s attention was drawn to their eyes which were shades of amber, some as light as honey or as dark as rubies. The next thing he noticed, which snapped him out of his reverie, was the sharp beaks which snapped at the dead rabbits Kuraha threw to them, tearing them into grotesque hunks of meat before throwing them into the air and swallowing them whole.

Kuraha gruffly told him that he would be responsible for the Hippogriffs upkeep for the year as they would be the subject of his Care of Magical Creatures class.

If Yato was correct, Yukine and Hiyori would be taking this class as one of their options, though it seemed it would be much more interesting than his own. Yato’s experience of learning how to care for Flobberworms – and trying not to get his face ripped off by a demonic textbook he’d taken to belting shut – was less than underwhelming.

Yato’s newfound Care of Magical Creatures entailed shovelling shit after shit, as well as throwing the occasional dead ferret to appease the offended looks he received from the herd of Hippogriffs every time he gagged at the smell. Aside from that, they couldn’t have cared less about Yato’s presence.

However, a particular Hippogriff – storm-coloured with amber eyes – had a curiosity for him that involved making Yato’s life much harder when it came to being an ‘honorary’ Gamekeeper.

Yato thought ‘Buckbeak’ – the name of said Hippogriff – was a stupid name, but did not voice this  for fear of offending the creature. He thought he might lose his head when he was told to bow to the proud creatures, but, after some hoof-stomping and beak-snapping, they accepted him.

The sun had sunk even lower until the forest was plunged into near darkness, showing that summer was well and truly over as short autumn nights and crisp air crept in. Yato swung himself over the paddock fence, wiping his forehead before bundling oversized moleskin gloves and a variety of reins and tethers up in his arms.

Aside from the constant aroma of manure, being a Gamekeeper wasn’t as bad as he’d thought.

The faint trail took him from the shadowy depths of the grove back to the broad expanse of the school grounds. He trudged back to the Groundskeepers hut to drop his load before striding up the twilit path.

The candles had started to flicker to life in the windows of the castle as curfew crept closer, ushering Yato to hurry up into the warm entrance and then down into the chillier pits of the Slytherin dorms.

Even if he did deserve it, this was a punishment Yato would enjoy.

~

Yato was correct – Yukine and Hiyori both had Care of Magical Creatures last on  Friday afternoons.

Trotting through the copse of trees which hid the proud creatures, the class was floored by the majesty of the Hippogriffs.

When it came to introductions, Yukine was the first to be lifted over the fence, followed by Kuraha who coached them through the process: low bow and wait, if they bow back you can pet them.

Hiyori didn't want to think of what they would do if they didn't bow.

Thankfully Yukine’s Hippogriff - a chestnut brown with eyes the colour of liquid gold - bent its knee, giving wordless permission for Yukine to approach.

The rest of the class followed suit one by one, earning inclined bows from the majestic creatures followed by excited whispers as they ran their fingers through soft feathers and coarse hair.  

When it came to Hiyori, however, the outcome was what she had feared. A snowy white Hippogriff with eyes like fire regarded her with reproach when she stepped forward for her turn.

Low bow, Hiyori told herself, bending at the waist with her arms held stiffly by her side, and wait.

A moment passed and Hiyori raised her eyes, expecting, hoping, that it had returned the gesture.

It hadn't.

She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and, unsure of what to do, Hiyori beat a hasty retreat. A twig snapped underfoot. Fear paralysed her, her head still bowed and at the mercy of the Hippogriff who huffed and stomped a foot impatiently.

What felt like an eternity passed before she heard Kuraha’s boots kicking through the bracken, the dead rabbit in his hand distracting the Hippogriff from her failed bow.

Hiyori gave a relieved sigh, straightened up and backing further away, watching the snowy Hippogriff rip the rabbit from Kuraha’s hand and toss it in the air. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to get the Hippogriffs to bow to her.

Class ended shortly after, allowing the third years to make their trek back to their dorms before the dinner. Yukine, glowing with modest pride over his success with his own Hippogriff, tried to cheer up Hiyori, who had a glum face listening to the excited chatter of the rest of the class.

“They’re a bit stubborn, you know,” Yukine said.

“They bowed to everyone else,” Hiyori muttered. Proud or not, she couldn’t get them to bow back. Maybe it was because she was muggleborn? Then again, there were other muggleborns in her class, so what was the problem with her?

Hiyori quietly stewed over her options, not noticing the familiar figure hurtling down the path and weaving his way to her and Yukine.

“Hey!”

Both looked in the direction of the voice to find Yato in front of them, hair tousled and nose smeared with dirt that he didn’t seem to notice in his haste to get to Hippogriff-keeping.

“Hey,” they said together, pausing on the track and letting the remainder of the class stream past them until it was only the three of them left in the leafy shadows.

“First class with Kuraha? How was it?” Yato shoved his hands in his pockets. Since he’d became Hippogriff keeper he’d expressed a keen interest in them, and was eager to talk about them, but Hiyori felt otherwise.

“It was ok,” Hiyori said vaguely, but Yukine wasn’t letting her avoid the topic.

“She’s scared of Hippogriffs,” he said matter-of-factly, earning a betrayed glare from Hiyori.

“I am not!”

“You wouldn’t go near it!”

Yato watched the exchange, eyebrows half-raised in surprise. “You’re really scared of everything, aren’t you?”

Hiyori huffed and folded her arms over her chest. “When it’s a half-horse half-eagle which can tear me in two then yes, I think it’s justified to not want my head taken off.”

Yukine bit his lip and looked at the ground, hiding a smile. Yato, on the other hand, looked at the canopy above them, exasperated and pressed for time.

“Meet me here tomorrow morning. I’ll help you.”

Yato didn’t answer Hiyori’s question of what he meant before jogging in the opposite direction, but whatever it was, she didn’t have a good feeling about it.

~

On Saturday morning, Hiyori, filled with dread, made her way to the Groundskeeper’s hut. The last time she agreed to meet Yato outside of school, he’d summoned a snake to ‘help’ her fear. Although there was a promise of no snakes this time, Hiyori was still dubious as to what Yato was going to do this time.

From the cliff where the castle stood, Hiyori could see the vast expanse of the Forbidden Forest before her, the Groundskeeper’s hut little more than a toy house from her perspective. The path took her from the West Wing exit down the embankment, a meandering path of dirt carved into the side by years of students making the same trek to classes.

Hiyori dared not to look up for fear of seeing Dementors, instead keeping her eyes low. The day was crisp, making Hiyori wish that she had worn something warmer than the casual top and jeans she had on.

The further down she went, the castle disappeared from view until she could see the rickety bridge that served as one of the two entrances to the school, as well as the glittering of the Great Lake in the distance.

Stumbling down the trail, Hiyori could make out Yato who was waiting for her, hands shoved in his trouser pockets and shoulders hunched under a light jumper.

He heard her call his name and turned, and – watching her trip on loose rocks with her arms slightly extended to help her balance – waved in greeting.

He scooped up the bunch of dead ferrets from his feet when Hiyori jogged up to him, her nose wrinkling at the sight which he had grown used to over the past week.

“Ready?”

“No?”

“Then let’s go.”

Yato walked slightly ahead of Hiyori, leading the way despite Hiyori herself knowing the short, familiar path to the paddocks.

Early morning sunlight barely pierced the leafy canopy, the trees yet to begin shedding for the colder weather which would bring hues of gold and amber to the enclosed grove.

The clearing was deserted aside from Hiyori and himself, as well as the creatures they had come to see.

Yato clicked his tongue to get their attention, which seemed to irritate the herd as they moved further away, except for a beautiful speckled grey Hippogriff that watched the pair approach with defiant curiosity.

Yato swung himself over the fence, landing hard on his feet before throwing the rope of ferrets over the gate post. He offered a hand to Hiyori who batted it away, instead using the wooden slats as a ladder to climb down besides Yato.

Hiyori lingered behind Yato as he gave a short bow to the creature, who inclined its head in recognition, before Yato half-turned back to Hiyori.

“This is Buckbeak,” Yato said. “Say hello.”

With a tug on her sleeve, Yato pulled Hiyori to his side. Hiyori stumbled forward, tensing up with a short cry followed by a quick glance from Yato to the Hippogriff.

Tossing his head with what sounded like a disgruntled snort at the impoliteness, Buckbeak stomped a taloned hoof and splayed his wings with a powerful beat which sent up a cloud of dirt around them.

Hiyori’s hand instantaneously found Yato’s and gripped it at the sudden movement, rooted to the spot as the Hippogriff stared directly at her with enquiring amber eyes.

Yato looked at Hiyori, then at their hands, then back to Hiyori.

“Can I have my hand back?”

Hiyori let go. “S-sorry.”

“Just give him a low bow and wait,” Yato instructed her, pushing her back gently so she took a few steps forward. “Don’t worry, I’m right here.”

Hiyori drew her shoulders back, keeping her eyes level with Buckbeak’s before, very slowly, she gave a bow.

She couldn’t see his reaction as her hair covered her eyes, but after a few seconds and a rustling of leaves she heard Yato’s soft voice telling her to look up.

When she did, she saw Buckbeak’s head inclined to her, a knee bent in a noble gesture of respect that Hiyori had finally earned.

Her smile was as bright as her eyes when she caught Yato’s. He was already crossing the yard and throwing a ferret to the Hippogriff as a reward before trailing a hand over his flank.

“You can pet him now,” he said, nodding encouragingly.

Hiyori took slow steps until she was at Buckbeak’s shoulder, who seemed too engrossed in tearing his meal apart to care about her.

Her fingers splayed into the downy feathers at the junction of his shoulder blades and wings, smoothing the silky coat with careful strokes. Buckbeak’s head cocked slightly to the side to acknowledge her, and she caught his eye with a relaxed smile as all her fears melted away.

“See? He likes you,” Yato said.

“Not too sure about the others.” Hiyori nodded at the far corner of the paddock where the Hippogriffs ignored the couple, but still eyed the dangling ferrets at Yato’s waist greedily.

“They’re not so friendly.” Yato’s voice dropped to a whisper when he added, “Buckbeak is the best.”

Hiyori giggled, turning her attention back to the velvety coat, running her fingers over perfect, speckled feathers.

Yato leaned against Buckbeak’s flank, arm propped up by the Hippogriff’s rear and his fingers ran over the glossy down of silver feathers.

“Hippogriffs are very proud. They don’t like everyone, but Buckbeak seems to like me the most.” Yato said boastfully to Hiyori who looked at him with an intrigued, yet unsure, expression.

“I was made his personal keeper because I can be trusted by the school, and because he respe–” Yato’s bragging was abruptly cut off as Buckbeak reared up, wing flapping a dusty tornado around them.

With nothing to recline against, Yato fell backwards, his arms wind-milling as he tried to find his balance, but nothing except empty air was there to stop him.

Smack!

With a wet thump, he hit the ground and landed in something mysteriously soft, wet, and brown; whether it was mud or something else, he didn’t want to know.

Hiyori clapped a hand over her mouth, but a snort of laughter escaped and, unable to help it, she doubled up with laughter.

Yato, lying in what pride he had left, groaned. So much for being cool. A clatter of footsteps approaching him made him raise his ashamed face, finding Buckbeak snorting and snapping at Yato’s waistband where the ferrets were tethered.

Muttering indistinct curses, Yato pushed the beak away and fumbled to untie the cord which Buckbeak snatched out of his hands before trotting away, happy with his haul.

Pushing himself up with his hands planted on the ground beside him, Yato gave Hiyori a casual grin which he hoped would distract her from the fact that he was probably covered in Hippogriff shit.

“I can see how much he likes you,” Hiyori smirked, her arms folded across her chest.

Yato, feet squelching in the mess as he got to his feet and wiped his hands against his trousers, shrugged. Worth a try.

A short pause followed as they gazed at the group of Hippogriffs tearing into the bundle of treats that Buckbeak had retrieved, broken by Hiyori’s voice.

“Yato?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

Hiyori’s cheeks had gone a shade of pink, but a smile still played on her lips when Yato looked at her in surprise.  

He ran a hand through his hair, the dorky, abashed grin on his face matching hers.

“Anytime.”

[myblackmare]

Well my parents have a property that would be an ideal small boarding facility, max 30 horses. We have experience with horses, but mainly training/competing/breeding. We have no experience with boarders so I guess that's the problem. Like how much would you charge, full care or part care, responsibilities etc. Anything that really has to do with boarding would be helpful! Also how on earth did you manage with 100 horses!!!

Ok, so.... (All money will be in AUD, sorry!)

Private paddocks were $60 a week, and they could pay $20 to be on full morning and night feedout, which included feed, hay and rug changing if required (feed, hay and rugs were kept at the paddock in bins for convenience and there were little notice boards at each paddock where owners could inform us of feed patterns, amount of hay to give and any medical concerns to be noted) Shared (Double) paddocks were $45 a week per horse, it could ONLY be used if there were two horses, if there was only one they would pay the same price as for the private, these paddocks were larger, and offered the same feedout service at the same price. Then there were large herd paddocks which housed up to 20 horses, these paddocks were $45 a week plus $15 for a weeks worth of hay that was provided by the agistment centre every day. (Note, horses in private/double yards must supply their own hay, they can however buy it from the centre). Large herd paddocks were not eligible for feeding/rugging services because it gets to difficult which so many horses and so much space- not time efficient. However if there was an emergency situation in these large paddocks, staff would still step in to assist the horse, and call the owners as soon as possible. Those in private paddocks could opt to also get a stable, which was an additional $70 a week, stabled horses are brought in by staff (me!) every night and taken out every morning at the specified time, they went out at 7 and were back in at 5:30. Bedding is $5 a wheelbarrow, and skipping out/ re-bedding must be done by the owners, but could be done by us for $20 for a full re-bed. Poo picking paddocks is usually an owner responsibility, but they can pay $20 for us to do it for them. And weeding is the same, do it on their own or $20 for us to do it. Fencing is checked everyday by staff, and is fixed free of charge to ensure equine welfare.

I graded all four arenas every day, the round yard every couple of days, and went down cross country to check for holes every week. 

Every boarder got a day stall to tie up in, it was an undercover shelter, one tie up was shared between two agistees, and was organised and written up on a whiteboard at the entrance to the alleyway. There was an enclosed box and then also a tie on the outside wall of the box so that if both agistees were there at the same time one could go in and the other could tie of the opposite side. Each horse was allocated a locker for tack, which was at the end of the alleyway. Responsibility to clean the alleyway was done by the agistees that used it (wash down your horses spot after they’re gone). We eventually added a $5 fine for those who left crap in the stable complex, and in the arenas! The stalls were covered by the cost of the paddock, as well as this they got free use of the wash bay and all of the centres facilities, such as arenas. They could pay $5 to wash a load of horsey things in our industrial washing machine also. We had two bedded stalls that could be used in emergencies by those who did not pay for a stable already. (i.e, an injured or sick horse would be placed in this stall until they are well enough to go back in their paddock). 

As far as responsibilities, on entry to the property, all new agistees must sign a contract that states that our facility was not responsible for their horse, and any injury/ death was the owners own issue, not ours. They must take responsibility for care (unless we’ve been paid to cover it) (but even so, at the end of they day, their horse is their problem if something happens), must be in contact with us- phone number, email and address- so that we can get in contact as soon as we need; and that if the rules of the property are broken, they must leave without fuss when we say. They must provide an information sheet on the horse at entry, with age, breed etc on it. As well as this they must provide details of past/ current issues the horse has, so they can’t try to pin anything on us that was already there before they moved. While owners are the ones that take on responsibility for their own horse we did have strict guidelines to ensure all horses were well- cared for. In the contract it did state that if an animal is not being cared for/ abused, the corresponding officials would be called. When I was there I did actually call an equine rescue service on one of our agistees once, due to their horse being severely emaciated. 

Off the top of my head rules were as followed:- Ensure equine welfare is maintained at all time, beating horses, starvation or other forms of abuse are not tolerated.- Payments must be made on time.- All agistees must be respectful towards their fellow agistees and staff.- Agistees must communicate with staff when needed.- All must follow correct arena rules (left to left, slower pace off the track etc.)- No stealing/ lying is tolerated. - No dogs allowed on property.- If someone else is coming to ride an agistees horse they must fill out a form first.- No running or screaming around horses.- Do not feed/pat strangers horses without permission.- Children under 15 must be accompanied by a parent at all times.- Helmets MUST be worn while riding.  

There were others, I just can’t quite remember right now. Most of it is common sense, but you have to put it in the contract to cover your ass. 

Also, we had security cameras set up in the most busy areas to ensure everything was kept in check and above board. 

A lot of our agistees were first time owners (as we had the school as well so it attracted kids) or just people looking for some advice. I was always happy to oblige and have a chat. Give advice or just be a listening ear when needs be. Having an agistee base that you’re connected to is so important. Seriously! Once I spent 10 minutes just hugging and talking to an agistee who had just lost her son, or giving an emotional talk to someone who was feeling down. It’s not a necessity and it’s not about horses but it builds a strong community. 

When agistees entered, we asked for the name and number of their preferred vet, so in an emergency situation they can be brought out, if no number is supplied we would use our most commonly called out vet. A fee of $10 was applied if horses had to be brought in by staff for the vet/dentist/ farrier. Every effort would be made to contact the owner if issues arose with the horse, but if no contact can be made, decision making falls to the vet. Putting a horse down or medicating them without the owners consent is something that has to happen sometimes, owners understand that, and make every effort to be available in case something happens. 

Horses had to be wormed every 8-10 weeks and absolutely had to be vaccinated every year. Both of these services could be provided by staff for $15,, but they had to supply the wormer/ vaccination themselves. We had a large locker of different medicines that could be bought in case of emergency, but most agistees have their own vet kit in their locker. If one horse contracted any form of disease that could be easily spread, they MUST be quarantined, no matter what the owner says. 

Just message me if there’s anything else you want to know! But that’s pretty much all the basics. 

**Also, how I managed all those horses... lord even knows. The hours were sooo long and my body was always dead by the end of the day. I loved it though. 

[davidchill]

Half A Year Away

It’s been seven months (yikes!) since I moved to Cambridgeshire, and I have no idea where the time has gone. Into the past, probably - that’s where time usually goes. I actually left my home in Stanstead Abbotts eight months ago, but there was a lot of faffing around between moving out and moving in. And that moving out day still haunts me [shudder].

A few people have noticed that I’ve been quieter on social media lately, and compared to the days when I’d post 20 dog photos a day, then yes, I’ll accept that I use the medium a lot less. I believe I went 7 or 8 weeks without posting anything, which was my longest Facebook hiatus of all time.

You can also thank the Facebook “On this Day” feature, that reminded me that I’ve posted a lot of crap that nobody really cares about over the years. “David, Facebook cares about you, so we’d just like to remind you that you’re not as nauseating as you used to be...”

I don’t want anyone to think that I’m ignoring them or that I’m being distant, rude or aloof. The truth is, I often feel like I’m bothering people - so I tend to send less messages than I used to. Also, Luna and I have yet to receive our first visitors (apart from immediate family and people I’ve paid to be here) so we’ve not had a housewarming party that you’ve not been invited to. Parties aren’t really my bag. Although I’m rather partial to a party bag.

It wasn’t a conscious decision to shut myself away, but the time has just passed at an astonishing rate. Luna’s also been hard work, and the only time I really get my own “headspace” (i.e. time to breathe and work uninterrupted is between 9pm and 2am, and I get more done in this five-hour timeframe than I do in the other 19 hours of the day. Besides, everyone is insanely busy pre-Christmas and the weather since hasn’t been very enticing. Also, people don’t appreciate being leaped on by a feral creature and slobbered all over upon their arrival. But can I just say that, in my defence, my manners have improved considerably.

Luna’s also much more reserved when it comes to greeting guests. Although, having said that, she explodes with excitement when Clare, the dog day carer visits, and on her first visit Luna knocked the glasses from her face and stole something out of her bag.

The occasional day care has been a godsend as Clare lives just a short walk away. Sadly, Luna being Luna, the bitch recently got herself barred from spending time in the paddock with other dogs. Apparently she doesn’t like to share the toys, but Clare’s still kindly offered to take her out for 3 hours occasionally (when she doesn’t have other dogs). Luna is actually great with other dogs - when she’s not in an enclosed field with toys… or food. Oh, and her recall has vastly improved.

Right now my priority is to get the book finished and out by May. It’s nice to have an occasional “breather” from that too, but I won’t be relaxed until it’s printed. Not that I’m ever relaxed. It’s hard taking the worst four years of your life (so far) and trying to make it “an enjoyable read” but I think I’ve nailed it. Some will find the humour difficult to digest, but if I can laugh at my own misfortunes then I’m sure others will too. I’m not just talking about dog struggles, but also anxiety, losing my home, etc.

On reflection, selling my home and leaving the village would have been the biggest mistake of my life. Every day I wake up and think of the place, and wonder how things could have been. Yet I take solace in the fact it was forced upon me and therefore it wasn’t a decision for me to make. Sadly, debt forces you down some pretty dimly lit corridors. I found myself between the devil and the deep blue sea, and I’ll never forgot the day I went to the bank about a small loan that would have saved my bacon (and my home). At the time I couldn’t even afford to buy bacon!

Thinking about the whole thing makes me a bit crestfallen, so I try not to dwell. I’m not sure how long we’ll remain in Cambridgeshire, as that depends on various factors like work, etc. The soaring cost of property in our former village makes it impossible for us to return to Hertfordshire or Essex. So we’ll just take each day as it comes…

Despite all the debt, depression, anxiety, rudeness and ignorance I’ve faced, I’ve found that writing about it always takes me to my “happy” place, and as long as I continue to visit that place then I know everything will be okay.

Anyway, unless I make a pig’s ear of editing this book then I’m really delighted with how it’s turned out. It sails pretty close to the wind and certain bits are constantly being removed and reinstated (depending on my mood). I’m confident that some people will hate this book, while others will love it. My skin is a lot thicker than it used to be, so even if it’s torn to pieces I’ll know I gave it everything I possibly could. 

That’s really all you can do in life.

[virtualcoffeeearthquake-blog]

Horses In My Back Yard

HORSE LOVERS: throughout my thirty years of marketing rural land, I actually have overtimes found that people need some surface area so they'll own and ride horses. They LOVE horses in their own mind however have very little if any of the $64000 information or expertise necessary to lift one or additional horses. 

So much too usually, they need information supported very little quite Associate in Nursing idyllic dream which dream primarily based for the foremost half on romantic novels and films. This text can offer you some basic data which can prevent and a Most Beautiful Horses in the world some dangerous or perhaps terrible experiences.

 HOW MANY ACRES?: If you are doing need horses; sensible an honest decent} rule of thumb in good pasture areas is three to five acres of pasture per horse, and ideally another acre or 2 of pen per horse

 The wise Equestrian can so arrange regarding six to ten acres per horse they need to stay within the purchase of land. The paddocks area unit smaller enclosed pasture areas near the barn used for coaching, saddling up your horse or obtaining a replacement horse acclimated to his new home.

 The risk of injury to animals will increase wherever horses area unit overcrowded, and competition for food, water and house could result in fighting. You need to give Associate in nursing adequate variety of paddocks or yards to allow incompatible animals to be lily-white. 

The amount of horses and their grouping in every pen or yard should be applicable for his or her compatibility and for the bottom conditions, taking under consideration the atmospheric condition pertaining at the time.

 You also want space for the house, barn, fodder storage, tack building and an idling shed for them to urge below once the weather isn't quite acceptable to them. In any yard or shelter, every horse should have adequate space to change posture, rise and switch around. 

There ought to be a clean, dry space for the horse to change posture, the surface of that protects the horse from abrasions and capped elbows and hocks. Paddocks that expose horses to things of machinery, instrumentation or rubbish (especially wire) possible to cause serious injury should not be used.

 FENCING: There is a unit various styles of fencing that area unit designed for horses. Board fences area unit deadly dangerous if not perpetually maintained. The horses will break a board and find you impaled thereon. Wire, particularly wire will entangle your horse's leg or neck and seriously injure him or worse. There is a unit many sorts of fences created for horse pasture.

 Wire and railroad (2.5 mm) high-tensile steel wire, thanks to their cutting, non-stretching and no breaking properties, will cause severe injury to horses. They must be avoided once constructing fences for horses, as ought to internal fence-stays or posts, that area unit a typical reason for injury.

 Fences ought to be pronto visible to horses and properly maintained. The perfect fence for premises designed primarily for horses is that the artificial, strong, flexible, post-and-rail kind, with rails treated or painted with nontoxic preparations. A well-liked various, that conjointly provide a decent visual barrier, could be a single prime rail hooked up to a traditional post-and-wire fence. 

I prefer the Australian Sheep Wire fence because it encompasses a grid that's terribly little at all-time low and bigger at the highest. The little grid size at all-time low prevents the horse from stepping through the fence and obtaining tangled.

 I conjointly sort of a charged electrical wire simply {above higher than on prime of} the extremely visible prime rail to "convince" the horse to not lean over that top rail to urge grass on the opposite facet. Such leaning by such a powerful and significant animal could be a major reason for fence breakage. There should be no sharp objects protrusile inwards.

 Your massive Associate in Nursing doc or Horse feed and tack store will assist you notice the correct fencing and an installer that is aware of what he is doing. Ideally your pasture can have fence corners rounded on an oversize radius to stop your horse from injury if he's trapped by another horse or is simply running with exuberance and misjudges the gap to the corner.

 I actually have sometimes seen a horse on a tether chain or rope, as some individuals do a dog. Tethering could be a apply that encompasses a high risk of injury to horses. It not suggested and may be used {only once|only|only if} alternative types of grazing or containment area unit pronounceable and when shut superintendence of the horse will be maintained. Solely placid horses and people adequately trained to simply accept the apply ought to be bound.

 FORGET WHAT YOU LEARNED FROM NOVELS OR HOLLYWOOD: Contrary to all or any the horse stories and films, your Most Beautiful Horses in the world  won't reply to you identical method a dog or cat can. He can respond and perform best once his owner is consistent and encompasses a routine. Forget all those stories regarding Flicker and Black Beauty; it solely happens within the movies.

  Take some lessons if you're a primary time owner. Horses don't such as you to hold onto the reins for balance. Find out how to balance yourself within the saddle and to softly guide the horse with the reins. There are no quicker thanks to create a Most Beautiful Horses in the world"sour" than to drag on his mouth roughly. Learn the horse language; the thanks to communicate to your horse are thru the balance of your body, you’re sitting position, the position of your feet and legs and finally the position of your hands.

 STABLING: He doesn't relish being secured in an exceedingly stall nightly. He would abundant like the open fields and therefore the star like nights! a 3 faceted shed (preferably with the open side to the southwest) can due simply fine. 

Horses do want protection from the sun and rain. Horse blankets/rugs create USA feel better; nature but, has equipped him simply dandy with a true coat. Those horses that area unit unlucky enough to be place in an exceedingly stall nightly might most likely use a furnishings unless the barn is absolutely COZY. But, once its thirty degrees or lower and it are processing and wet, he will appreciate a stall to eat his grain and fodder. And it'll prevent plenty of cleanups in your paddocks.

 PASTURE: Plant a pasture with a combination of correct grass seeds. talk over with the native Agricultural station or horse feed provide store for the seed combine. Build many paddocks to stay your horse’s sure short times, so you'll be able to rotate the pastures and sporadically provide all a rest to refill the peak of its grasses.

 Horses area unit poor utilizes of pasture, compared to Boss Taurus or sheep. Most horse pastures contain an oversize proportion of weeds and "roughs" wherever horses area unit the sole grazers. Horses won't eat pasture that's contaminated with horse dung. 

This typically causes the contaminated space to become larger and therefore the grazing space smaller. The pasture growing around the dung patches is typically lush and appears to be the most effective feed, whereas the patches in between can look overgrazed.

 Where attainable, horses ought to be touched in conjunction with Boss Taurus or sheep. Additionally to serving to calm the Most Beautiful Horses in the world; the opposite species can finish off the "roughs" whereas conjointly reducing the worm contamination on pasture.

 Though agonizing may be helpful to unfold the dung around, in damp conditions and once the grass is long it's going to unfold worm eggs, creating a bigger space of the pen infected. Wherever no Boss Taurus or alternative grazer’s area unit obtainable, it's essential to get rid of the manure or unfold it around frequently throughout dry periods, once the sun and ultraviolet rays can tend to destroy eggs and larvae.

 Your horses can leave some massive manure piles round the pasture and particularly within the corners. unfold the manure out on the pasture with a retardant harrow and rake out the pasture corners to interrupt it up in smaller pieces; it helps to stay the fly larvae within the manure from hatching out and bothering your horses.

 You will want a manure unfolder to spread the manure you shovel out of your idling sheds and stalls. Your horses can eat plenty of the grass in your pasture -- however you may still ought to mow the pastures sporadically and you may have to be compelled to use a weed-eater below and on all the fences. you may have to be compelled to keep a cross-check for any plants of the woody plant family as they're toxic to your steeds.

 Grazing animals run through soil nutrients increasingly, that successively ends up in poor pasture quality and rate of growth. this could be frequently monitored by soil and pasture analysis. Pasture ought to be prime dressed with fertilizers to interchange known nutrient deficiencies. talk over with your State consultant (each state has Associate in Nursing Agricultural school and Agents attached) to find out to spot soil nutrient desires and to indicate you the way to destroy unwholesome plants properly. make sure that there's forever many clean water within the pasture which the water trough is unbroken dutifully clean!

 VACCINATIONS: Your horses need annual booster shots for zoonotic disease, Tetanus, grippe perissodactyl and inflammation, and Potomac Horse Fever. talk over with your native massive Animal doc and maintain a correct schedule of immunizations and regular checkups. Horses conjointly need quarterly worming to stay the enteric parasites below the danger level.

 FARRIER SERVICES: Horses within the wild got on simply fine while not a blacksmith. They ran and romped over large expanses, were hunted person by predators and infrequently ran long distances as a herd. however currently that they're unbroken and ridden totally on soft sandy soil or grasslands -- the hooves want trimming each six to eight weeks. 

AND, affirmative some horses do want horseshoes of steel, rubber or another material. {you can|you'll|you may} be ready to tell if your horse want shoeing; if he will he will walk terribly "tender-footed" and will have cracks and breakage in his hooves. The method he walks, stands and carries himself normally can tip you off to his blacksmith desires.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Friday 13 March 1835: SH:7/ML/E/17/0179

6 ¾

11 35

No kiss. fine morning F42 ½° at 7 ¾ am - then out at ¾ hour till 8 ½ - went for Charles H- found he had been set off ½ hour ago - then with old Charles H- looking at 2 compasses for measuring coal - the best (as good as can be made) with long and short legged frame 3 guineas to me - 3 ½ guineas to other people - he has a rain guage ready marked  to 1/100 part of an inch - did not say the price - his own rain gauge is marked to the 1/1000 part of an inch - 5 inch of rain fall here last month - very fine morning- Richard Woodhead and his son (met them at the entrance gate) gone up to rail Mark-Town’s road off from Greenwood’s and Pickells’ land - breakfast at 8 ¾ to 9 ¾ - reading chitty and thinking what to do about Mr Jeremiah Dyson - at my desk at 9 ¾ - then to 12 had written and sent off by George the following note to ‘Messrs. Parker and Adam, solicitors, Halifax’ - ‘Shibden Hall Friday 13th March 1835 - Sir - Mr Adam will have told you what passed yesterday - but it occurs to me, that, before taking any other step whatever, you had best write to Mr Jeremiah Norris to acknowledge the receipt of his note of yesterday - and to inform him that I do not think that the mere tender of toll to the gate-keeper, more especially with reference to the time and manner of this tender, can be fairly considered all that is necessary to constitute making and proper satisfaction for the grounds of complaint I have alleged - and that I have instructed you to ask from Mr Jeremiah Norris an early and clear answer to the question, whether Mr Jeremiah Dyson is, or is not, willing to pay the compensation demanded as toll, and also, and at the same time,  to pay the law-expense incurred by me in claiming the said compensation so demanded. I am sir, etc etc A. Lister’.

Is the tender of the toll a bar to action or not? I think an action will lie on the case for tort if not for trespass

Wrote and sent also a separate ¼ sheet enclosed in the following -‘Private road except for foot passengers, but all persons riding on horses, mules, or asses, or in, or with, carriages or carts, or driving any kind of cattle, sheep, or pigs, may pass along this road, having first obtained permission from the gatekeeper, and having first paid a compensation according to the Following Rates, is the above form of notice sufficient sufficient for the toll-board? Shibden Hall Friday 13 March 1835’

wrote and sent also a note to ‘Mr. Booth Bookseller etc. H-x’ to say I had done Messrs. Longman and c° injustice and would therefore keep the 3rd edition of Philip on the vital functions as received last night – it was the 4th edition I wanted of the 2 vols. on fevers – Treatise on symptomatic fevers and Ditto on simple and emptive ditto  

wrote and sent also a note  to ‘Mr Booth Bookseller H-x’ to say I had done Messrs. Longman and c° injustice and would therefore keep the 3rd edition of Philip on the vital functions as received last night - it was the 4th edition I wanted of the 2 volumes on fevers - treatise on symptomatic fevers and ditto on simple and emptive ditto - and wrote the following to go tonight to ‘Mr. Bull Engineer to the Calder and Hebble navigation company Horton street’ - ‘Miss Lister presents her compliments to Mr. Bull, and would be glad to  see him at Shibden hall, at any time he could be so good as fix - From Miss Lister’s opinion of Mr. Bull’s professional acquirements, she is persuaded that, by being so obliging as give her his advice, he would do her a great service - Shibden Hall Friday 13 March 1835’ had just written so far of today at 12 ½ pm - reading Chitty vol. 1 till 1 ¾ - note from Mr. Parker with better form of notice for the toll board on the subject of Mr. JD- he observes ‘as to Mr. Jeremiah Dyson I really am at a loss what to say in a legal point of view - de gustibus non disputdanum [est]’ -  A thought has struck Mr P- respecting the Inn which he will be glad to communicate when he sees me - so it seems there is little to be done in the case of Mr Jeremiah D- how difficult to manage such fellows! Il faut réfléchir là dessus. [need to think about it] - sat looking into Chitty and writing copy of a handbill to be printed giving notice of the trouble and expenses Mr Jeremiah Dyson had put me to and that if he or any other person attempted the line in future he should be prosecuted without further notice. Went down to A- at 2, she had come for me to shew proof (from the case state to Mr Alderson for his opinion respecting the Bailey Hall road) of the conveyance by her sister of all her sister’s property to Captain S- 27 and 28 February 1831 - done by lease and release and secure enough - we were in the midst of our astonishment and talk whom Mr Bradley came about 2 ½ to tell me his good fortune in being entitled in right of his wife to above or thousands pounds by the death of her youngest brother - Mr B- has taken the necessary measurements at Northgate but will be from home next week about his money business and I

SH:7/ML/E/17/0180

gave him till next Monday week the 30th instant for finishing his plans - congratulated him very heartily on his good fortune - Off with A- at 3 ½ to Cliff Hill  - walked with her to the Crownest paddock stile and then returned to speak to Holt who was with the 2 Manns measuring the length of drift there would be from Mytholm dam-stones to Coffin Lane bridge end - drift 240 yards long - would get out of the wood about midway between Breakneck cottage coffin lane bridge - would be 5 yards deep below the surface of the wood - would want a vent hole every 40 yards the last to be always filled up as soon as another made - told him to settle about price and get it begin as soon as possible to work shifts ie night and day - anxious for the Pump pit to be set a going as a sale pit as soon as possible - Holt thinks it will take at least a 12 month - the Tilley holme vent-pit to be let alone till the drift is driven up to it, for this will take the water off it which we have been frightening with - the pit sinking was agreed for 6/ per yard but on account of having so much water must mend the price - not agreed how much - this pit is 9 yards 2ft deep and is at the upper bed which is whole coal - the youngest Machan will be of age on Monday - H- will come to Shibden on that day and bring me plans from 3 wheelwrights of a water wheel - from Shay of Ovenden and Bates of Ripponden, and Bates of Sowerby bridge - to talk over Mrs Machan’s coal on Monday - said I should be glad to have it - but it seemed to me not quite so necessary as I thought it at first - to which H- seemed to agree - said Mr R- could not get much of it from George Naylor’s fields extended too far - I said I thought R- could not get more than 25 acres of  S. Hall’s coal to which Holt quite agreed - mentioned to him Walsh’s share in the coal of the waste - he said Walsh had spoken to him about hit but he Holt had forgot to tell me - W- wants to sell - Hinscliffe got £60 for his share from Mr R- Holt thinks he can buy Walsh’s for me for £30 - told him to name the bargain for me if he could, at this price - then off again at 5 ¼ for A- dawdled about the Cliff Hill land till went into the house at 5 ¾ and sat 1/2 hour - home at 7. A- had told her aunt all about her sister’s making over the property to Captain S- and about her own  A-‘s will and heard about her aunts’ the long and the short is she thought A- had left all she had to me and so she Mrs. AW had the next thing to cut A- out for it neither she nor Mrs Sutherland to be executors but Mr W. Priestley   A- pleased by saying she had left all to Sackville nothing yet settled about me but if A- did not marry  should probably stay with me and we should mutually give each other a life estate in all we could   Dinner at 7 ¼ - coffee - wrote the last 45 lines - ½ hour with my aunt till 10 ¼ pm at which hour F46° very fine day