I’m incapable of taking an eyetest and not all news is good news

My left eye is a menace. It refuses to behave in eye tests so I’ve been to the optician 4 times during my ‘holiday’ and have had new glasses made twice; I’m still not convinced that the correction is right. I’m to give it another few days before I’m allowed a third test with a more experienced optometrist….I’m getting all the spiel from the regular staff about adjustment periods etc while I’m sat there wondering just how far away they are from my face and how bad the cross eyedness will be when I remove them this time. The first left lens was the wrong power and I suspect the second has a marginally wrong axis or centre of vision does not align, or, y’know, both, or neither. Lets face it, I don’t like change. 

The staff clearly think I’m some kind of nutter…the way this should work is, you get your new glasses, accept everything’s been done perfectly and just deal with the headaches, you don’t tell them all about it for god’s sake, and not repeatedly! I hope they are right and I don’t fall off my bike tomorrow.

What a nice headache-inducing way to spend my time off work. Sigh.

………..

It was my intention to be creative these two weeks, make something, create something, but inspiration has not been abundant and playing ‘ori and the blind forest’ took precedent. I’m shite at computer games at the best of times, but one on a PC without a controller is well beyond my skill level even on easy.much swearing has passed. 

So instead I downloaded a karaoke app that lets you record yourself singing along to the songs on your phone. So I did that, and recordings  (so far only k’s choice) are only available for a laugh on request because I kind of hate my voice and don’t want it here for posterity. I will say though that it’s annoying how few contralto alternative, indie and (+/-pop-) rock singers there are out there to copy ;p

………..

Also the depressed, anxious and otherwise unpredictable and neurotic dachshund who I was playing with, picking up and generally bonding with last week viciously bit the damned gardener on the leg on my birthday so considering her age and deteriorating behavioral problems, she was sadly wished all the best in her journey to the doggie afterlife 😦

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It is upsetting but being small and cute doesn’t mean a dog is immune from being dangerous. Responsible dog ownership means making difficult decisions. In a weird way, I’ll miss my mum’s snappy, growly little fluffball, but not nearly as much as she will.

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In other news, for a change and to build my confidence, I rode the Highland pony today while my friend rode ‘the beast’ that is Buster, but they were both like lazy angelic horses the whole ride so that was lovely and relaxing for all. 

Now thanks to said pony my knee injury that I’ve been trying to ignore for a few weeks is niggling again. Dammit. 34 and griping about my joints and singing karaoke at home alone. How did it come to this??? 

Gurgle. Slosh.

The sun came out but the temperature dropped and an audi driving wanker tried to kill me today. The seahorse pleaded innocence and the ringing is still chasing me around. Don’t worry though, it’s probably just another ludicrous string of slippery things and neoplastic ideas circulating because while science is in the making, imagination refuses to be pinned down for long enough to produce what I’d consider a tentacle.

Beautiful things are not expelled by tense creatures. All the gurgling noises of half digested ideas and I can’t get a plunger into my head to free them up.

Stuff that has happened:

I played the electric fence hokey cokey a few times with buster. You put your horse in, the fencing is snagged, you reach to unhook it and your horse scoots out. Repeat a few times then unclip the beast and give reassuring hugs, telling him that it’s ok, his friend will be back soon. He could see her from where he stood but wasn’t convinced.

I played pony-killing-plastic-bag fun too. It took me about 10 mins but I finally convinced the pair of them that it was ok to touch the plastic bag that had unfortunately blown across them and send them into a frenzied charge.

What I didn’t do was ride. It was windy as hell and I felt a bit nervous incase we had a bolting incident due to say, I don’t know… a homicidal bin liner flying past or something. I’m a wimp, but that’s OK because I figured I’d rather miss out on riding than spend the whole time in dreaded anticipation, wondering which bone will be the next one to break. It’s not that I don’t trust buster, it’s that hes easily led astray…

I’ve removed one of my posts from three years ago about a paper being rejected. It has been responsible for the majority of the traffic to this blog and that is annoying me. So it’s gone. And now we can return to 0.5 readers per post.

Autumn equine reflections

I’d like to show you how my buddy Buster is shaping up as we head into winter.

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Look at the shine on his coat!! He looks so healthy and happy, even if he is shamelessly checking out the tackbox for polo’s! ( over here mate!!!!)Oh I’d love to tell you that the photo was post bath but they haven’t been washed since the start of summer ( don’t look at me like that…they only go and roll in the mud when you wash them anyway…)!! It’s too cold now for that kind of business and to be honest, if we bathed him he’d probably reflect the sunlight so much it would distract the drivers (and spook the neighborhood animals).

The horses managed a record-breaking 29 poos between the two of them in just one night the other day….even thinking about that makes my bottom feel sore. It must have been exhausting because the pair of them practically slouched their way around our hack..dragging their hooves and largely bemoaning their lot. Its hard to imagine these are the same beasts that were getting all fizzed up only a matter of weeks ago. I guess the summer sugarcube fairy has stopped visiting. Another possibility is the the pony stealth pooed when she snuck into that field before and the evidence has only just been found…that would mean they just didn’t feel up for an active hack because the weather was miserable, and I certainly can’t blame them! That’s right Buster, I guess I did need the leg exercise.. 

“It’s time, meet me on the sunny road”~Emiliana Torrini, sunny road

A head full of horror

I wore the octopus earrings yesterday because we had a symposium and not lab work and this illicited the response
“ewww it’s like Ursula from the little mermaid” (ok actually he said “that gross one from that film with the siren”, then they tried to discuss what that film was… In Spanish it’s sirenita…I had to tell them…sigh)
Mission accomplished though!  😀 thanks lab folk for confirming that you do indeed have no taste when it comes to oceanic accessories (or Disney villains)! Now go and weigh some powders r-e-a-l-l-y accurately.

I’ve just had the unsettling news that I sound terrible when I swear. Apparently I have “picked up” the habit of saying fucking (insert whatever word) all the time and I sound “retarded” when I say it. I don’t think swearing is like nits, you can’t just pick it up and you also can’t stop by using some stinky shampoo. Unless the shampoo has cyanide in, which although it will cease your swearing forever, it will happen along with loss of all other functions…
I do swear too much though. It’s not ladylike is it?

Ha! Ladylike! Awesome. I haven’t been accused of that since I was very young!

On a totally different note, I fed some squash to the horses on Sunday (after inspiration from Issy ) and I’m still waiting to hear if I’ve instigated a massive diarrhoeal disaster….it might sound funny but if you’ve ever had to cope with any volume of liquid horse poop then you’ll understand the totally rational terror of adding new foods.

A colleague lent me a book. Being lent a book is such an uplifting experience, especially when it comes with the knowledge that someone thought you might like it, meaning not only do they know you reasonably well but they think about you AND want to share things to make you happier 🙂

I am therefore taking yet another dystipian SCI-FI journey, this time courtesy of one Mr Vance and this far it has proven to be most satisfactory. I also  love it when books teach me new words. What I love less is being told that I’m only reading it because those kind of books are trendy and I’m a big fat trend-follower. And it’s ok to just do the fashionable thing if you are honest about it.

Fucking bullshite.

Once you are exposed to something,  you find out if you like it. Obscure things are harder to find in the first place. That doesn’t mean you have no personal taste. So yeah I read the first fucking Harry Potter book and the steig larsson and game of thrones books and they were all great. So there.

“I got a head full of horror
I got a sleep I can’t beat
I’m still solving that puzzle
Those little pieces of me”~Seafood, little pieces

Sanity rescued by horses again

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Animals can achieve what humans cannot. Buster has managed to turn this weekend from a full on fuck-off whinge fest into a healthier balance of whinge, love, success and rebuilding of trust.

I feel alive again. Lurgey or no lurgey.

This super-horse knew I was still a bit nervous about being on his back after our most elaborate parting over a month ago, and he seemed eager to show himself as the supreme champion of bravery and level-headedness that I previously knew him to be.

I was wary when I heard he’d been naughty with the farrier, and that he hadn’t been exercised all week, but bless his little cotton sock (singular. He has only one sock), he didn’t put a single newly shod hoof wrong, even when I felt brave enough to try a canter and then our overexcited companion leapt sideways into our path, he deftly moved us to safety and then calmed his friend down.

How could I ever doubt my buddy? Oh yeah that’s right….broken nose….hmm, well I’d say I’m now back to trusting him about 80% and hope to get that up to a healthier optimal 95% soon. Five percent needs to be reserved for extenuating circumstances. Trusting 99% is what got my nose broken.

P.S. This was the first and hopefully last time I managed to go riding without applying Deodorant. This is a stinky enough hobby already without this added bonus.

“Itch to scratch,
To strike my past from all it’s owed
It’s sold”~sneaker pimps, curl

Broncing horse and broken nose. Thanks Buster.

Have you ever seen a horse bronc? Well it looks a bit like this:

and this behaviour usually ends up with a rider splatted on the ground.

This week the field was broken into and people stole a load of my friend’s stuff, scared the shit out of the horses in the process. My little buddy even freaked when he first saw me come into the field until he realised it was me, and he’s not normally highly strung.

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^one chilled beastie

Out on the ride my steed was acting like a young-un, tanking off into a very fast canter at every opportunity of stubble field and then tolerating (with a bit of spooking) a couple of dogs running towards him and one sniffed at his leg (dog got a whip waved in their direction of course, don’t want someone’s poor pooch killed by a horse kick). Not long afterwards, Buster spooked at a dog making noise in the hedge, bolted and when I tried to pull him up, decided that,  no, he’d rather take evasive action rather than slow down or turn away from the hedge. And so you won’t be surprised to hear that when my little angel Buster went on a bucking bronco fit, I flew off and crashed into the ground, smacking my head in the process. I’ll give him credit for 1) having the energy to have such a mad broncing fit that continued after I was ejected, 2) dodging out of my way as I fell and 3) ultimately just stopping and not bolting off into the distance. (good boy, a bit too late for obedience though matey!).

Apparently I have a very mild head injury that can be managed with paracetamol and rest, but it does look like I fractured the bridge of my nose. Which would explain why it hurts like hell. And why putting my sunglasses on suddenly became unpalatable (Yay for not having my sunnies (or my self for that matter) trampled on!)

To be fair, I was processed relatively fast by A and E, as I was out in about 2 hours, but it took 1.45 hours to get some damned paracetamol out of the stingey buggers. As I wasn’t planning any public trips, I was wearing a skin-tight white(ish) tank that was a major nipple exposer and so had to borrow SO’s plaid shirt to cover up my chest and the weird horse-related stains on my top (mmmm how attractive). I’ll bet that processed me faster to get the horsey stink out of the waiting room….

Please send hugs and virtual paid -killers because I hurt.

I should probably add that I was riding responsibly, I had both a hat and body protector on that conformed to safety regulations, as well as a reflective jacket, and was carrying my phone and some mints (good for shock).