INVITING OURSELVES OUT

One afternoon during February, from inside the outside looked bright, cheery and tempting.  So, we, that’s hubs and me, invited ourselves out for a coffee.  There was a noticeable icy breeze, truly icy. It wasn’t too bad once we’d got used to the feel of it. I was glad of the thick jeans I was wearing, (these days, jeans seem to be made with much thinner denim cloth).  Together with my hip length padded jacket and a big scarf wrapped round my collar it all worked a treat. Hubs was well wrapped up too.
Crossing a bridge, I saw a tight ‘ruck’ of Snowdrops, the first I had seen this year. They bank onto a river.  In another week or so, the whole bank should be carpeted with them.

Snowdrops From A Previous Year

We arrived at our destination and found our favourite seating area was free and only one person, the manageress,  was at a table. It was an oasis of calm.  A lot of people favour the same seating area, and  it can be teeming with bodies from whom emanates a very high volume cacophony of sound.  A group of teachers is one of the noisiest.  Next are parents who allow their little offspring with their metal toys -small cars  mostly-to bang them on  the glass table tops. The kids love it. This is an efficient way to clear the nook of other customers!


On the way home  we wandered up to a farm and bought some fresh eggs, chatted to the shepherdess, who also runs the egg enterprise and does lots of other things in the modern diversified life of farming.

A plop of icy sleet startled me, followed by a few more plops.  Then I noticed an unexpected clump of bright yellow in the shelter of closely planted leafless bushes.  Crocuses were about to bloom.  Could Spring be just around the corner?

SCENES OF THE EDINBURGH FESTIVAL 2016

It seems to me there are lots of Fringe bits to the Edinburgh Festival, but to keep things relatively tidy, (programmes, books, leaflets always being the exceptions) I see the Fringes divided up into the;

1. International classical theatre, concerts and The International Book Festival;
2. Professional Fringe; (worth a look)
3. Mainstream Fringe (semi professional, can be interesting);
4. Have-a-go Fringe (a huge range of options, often thought-provoking and clever);
5. Stand-up Comedy, and
6. Multinational talents Fringe, (A wide variety, some very beautiful).

Selecting from numbers 2-6  is not straightforward. This, for me, is a great big part of the fun of being at the Edinburgh festival...getting there and invariably taking pot luck. Number 5, is quite likely to be risqué! (I have no respect for 'comics' who operate with gratuitous vulgarity).

The Royal Mile pop up shows stand out on their own; The Royal Mile is always worth visiting.

This year I found myself second in a queue for a show; the Editor of The Children's Guinness Book Of Records, Craig Glenday was first. We had a lovely chat and sat in the same church pew to watch a really good show called The Gin Chronicles.  It's a spoof 1947 radio broadcast. If the show appears anywhere else, go see it.

And here is the Guinness Book of Records man doing his own ''show' at The Book Festival. There were only a few tickets left when I got mine on the day. Craig gave the young audience, (and their adults) guidelines about what records would not get into the books,  such as anything that would upset the people who help animals. It was a gentle humorous  production. We saw a couple of record holders, a bagpiper, and  a cyclist without a bike seat. The seat-less cyclist also tried to break a record at the show.   Children were invited  to play the bagpipes, or, monitor something with stopwatches, or, click devices, or, race to make up a potato head. (There is one on the low table).




The Festival seemed a bit slow to get into a bustling rhythm this year, partly because some of the elements of it were staggered not to clash too much with the Olympic Games. The new digital hub in the Centre of town had no  queues of festival-goers lining up for digital events in the Assembly Rooms, where, in previous years  you would have seen flows of people waiting for shows. It was all very quiet. The pop-up outdoor cafes and bars nearby were not over-subscribed with patrons. Up the hill in the Old Town where a lot of extra events seemed to be sited, it was busy.

What you see here is a newly refurbished banking hall at St Andrews Square, Edinburgh. It is gorgeous. The staff are happy for visitors to wander in and learn about the building's history. In the front garden - a Festival venue - you could sit and eat, or under gazebos, sit and play with outsize light -weight dominoes, or, under another, lounge on large cushions and play  with large cards.


So, in Princes Street, (the main shopping street of the city) I was darting through crowded spaces when I heard the attractive sounds of music.  I back tracked and gave the guy a donation. "Stop!" he called as I was about to dash off again. He raked around in a big bag and handed me a card... except it wasn't. He'd given me a gift of his CD "Because you are so nice", he said.

This is busker Marcello Vacante playing a track from  his CD 'Train For London' .  (His name is on the CD cover)

Does anyone know anything about this type of teapot, (if it is a teapot) seen in a charity shop window?



Oooops - In a back street I  found that The Driving License Authority had been busy (DVLC stamped on the clamp).



Let me introduce you to Audrey.



The last remaining vintage mobile cinema from around 1967.  Black and white Pathé News films, (remember those) were shown, a couple were of the 1947 beginnings of the Edinburgh Festival. My friend told me afterwards that she remembered going to the first festival with her mother!!!  You could have knocked me over with a feather.

This was called "The Rook". This must relate to Harry Potter and the fearful chess board game that had to be played in one of the stories.  The author JK Rowling is, after all,  a graduate of the university and more recently was awarded an Honorary Doctorate by Edinburgh University.  'Wee horse" does look like a junior  and not too distant relative of the Kelpies that are based in Falkirk, Scotland. However, the Kelpies don't have reins or a feather topknot.




Scenes of Festival relaxation in Princes Street Gardens and Granny's Drying Green below Edinburgh Castle:



A musical venue, where guitars  also became percussion instruments for both classical and fusion genres.



Last, but definitely not least:



A view of Edinburgh Castle with an interesting wee look-out tower and a clear view of a lump of Dolerite, a coarse-grained Basalt rock.  The Castle rock is estimated to have formed about 350 million years ago and is the remains of a volcanic pipe.
References:

MacIvor, Iain (1993). Edinburgh Castle. p. 16. ISBN 9780713472950.
McAdam, David (2003). Edinburgh and West Lothian: A Landscape Fashioned by Geology. p. 16. ISBN 9781853973277.

I THINK WE ARE BEING SHOT AT!

An echoing boom blasted out, then the follow-on sound of tumbling rock not far away could be heard. We stopped walking and looked at each other. 'What the hell was that...I'm sure it was a gun". As we were taking stock, another boom rung out, then another. Instinct wanted me to drop and lie flat. Instead, I looked around, then turned and said to hubby, "I think we are being shot at". He agreed we had heard gunshots, but did not necessarily agree that we were the target practice. We could not see from where the shots came, and the directional line of shooting was not clear.

I noticed the golden Labrador dog we had passed on a pathway to a house, on the estate we were legitimately walking, was sitting very calmly, apparently no care in the world. Being as calm as it was, it must have been a trained gun dog. A short distance from the house was parked a 4X4 vehicle.

<>/div> Close to where we stopped were two tents, both had closed flaps. The old army tent had a picnic table set up with elements of a snack visible. There were two empty chairs. There was also a pyramid tent with no sign of active life. As we took stock of the scene, another gun shot rang out.   

Looking back at the house, we saw a gun barrel peeping from the now, open front door, directed towards the rock face opposite. It seemed to us that the firearms user was attempting to scare us off our walk. We decided to walk on and visit the historic site at the end of the trail. Half way up a little hill we turned to look back again. This time, we saw five people at the doorway, including children. And still the barrel of what I believe was a rifle, could be seen moving up, down and around. The shooter did not come into view.

Not far from the historic monument, we could hear the low level .22 rifle popping sounds coming from a clay pigeon shoot. There was a warning red flag further on, a warning not to go past that point. There was a brisk warm wind, and the movement of the sea. Amongst all those sounds was the swishing and sotto voce rumble of a dozen large turning windmills.

So much for a walk through peaceful lush pastures with the tinkling of water streams running through, rising and tumbling over little waterfalls.

LIFE SPRINGS ETERNAL

This time last year, snowdrops had no sooner popped up their heads than they decided it was just too, too cold, and popped their heads back in again. About six weeks later than usual they warily reappeared. A lot of hardy plants didn't survive last winter here in Scotland, and those that did, either partially presented, appearing half dead, or, appeared very late indeed. The ground was so cold that bulbs that would have flowered by June, were pushing through green shoots in mid August and were then fading away by the end of September. So, there was not much of a flowering season for anything or anyone. 

Today, the clumps of snowdrops are prolific. Wherever you walked there were carpets of them to be seen. Many people have been remarking upon the lovely sight of the snowdrops, I suspect, in part, because it is all so different from 2011. I didn't have my camera with me today, however, instead of flowering plant life, here is a picture of some other new life of the year.



These Suffolk lamb twin girls were born on the 11th January this year. In this picture, the lambs are about twelve days old, they are following mum, Megan, back into the lambing shed. It was a cold bright day, where the frost lifted, allowing the lambs to experience the outdoors for a little while, then return to the protection of the shed before the temperatures dropped. Being a month old today,now bigger and stronger, the lambs with their mum are to be seen more regularly out in the field.

A HIGH TIME FOR GARDENING AND WALKING

Dear Diary,

We're under a high at the moment....no, not on a high, though being where we are, it does help to get on one, (a high) if you see what I mean. The barometric high pressure, (not to get confused with any other kind) means we have had two bright crispy days.  Nightfall delivered a ground frost giving us a crispy day with just that extra bit of wintry nip. If we had not had to turn the clocks back by an hour, we would get more time in the day to enjoy this weather, notwithstanding, I was up early this morning when it was still quite dark. I was therefore, able to enjoy all the daylight from when it dawned to when night drew in.

Yay! I got most of the laundry damp-dry over the two good bright days. It will keep the fuel costs down and reduce the amount of moisture circulating in the house while it finishes drying. The things that please us now,(getting washing dried without the use of utility fuel) we would never have dreamt of pleasing us just a decade ago. It's a sign of the times.

As there is a recycling collection this week, I rolled the bin up to the border of bushy perennials , which, to coin a phrase in today's economic parlance, definitely needed a haircut; clearly, a short back and sides. Metaphorically I pushed up my sleeves and started lopping off branches. After 7/8 of the work was completed, the bin was very full.  I briefly held onto my aching back, then indulged in some gentle seventh innings stretches. That did the trick and I felt re-energised. If we get more gardening weather, I'll trim back the one eighth of remaining bush life in time for the next garden waste recycling collection.  The Dahlias still look quite colourful, but, I can see from the leaves that the frost is getting to them. I wonder if I should pull them up or let the Dahlias die off.

The border is definitely looking sadly denuded. Even so, the perennials did need tidying up. The weeds that were hidden by the overgrown bushes are now totally visible. They have had a field day, growing stealthily and prolifically, many beyond my reach, and out of my sight.    Dear diary, it seems I shall have to summon up the energy to weed them out. 

We went for a leisurely stroll Sunday afternoon. The orchestrated tinkling sound we heard was Oyster Catchers lifting and turning stones and pebbles with their distinctive beaks on the banks of the river; it is their way of foraging for food. A sparrow was free-loading, following behind, gaining the benefit of the other birds' feeding habits. 

Down at the sea shore, there were loads of foot tread marks, all overlapping and in one corner of the beach. It must have been the main viewing point of the community bonfire and fireworks display on the 5th November. I had to screw up my eyes because the sun was very bright and low. It was sod's law my sunglasses were sitting in the car parked back at home.

THE OTHER END - JOHN O' GROATS

One fine day I found myself in John O' Groats, a corruption of a the name of a Dutchman, Jan de Groot, who settled there about the 15th century, so the story goes, and ran a ferry that plied its trade to The Orkney islands. De Groot had seven sons. To minimise confrontation and to give equal status to all, Jan had built an octagonal shaped table for all to sit at when they had their business meetings. 

On the site where the de Groot family lived, grew a hotel known as The John O' Groats Hotel. Over recent decades the hotel has been allowed to fall into disrepair. A community project, it is not clear which community, was officially sanctioned to 'tart it up'. That meant some outer walls were painted in various mismatched styles. The local community indicate they do not like it. In many ways, the decaying building seemed much more in keeping with the ancient history of the area. The hotel is now undergoing re-modelling and refurbishing.

Because of the 'end-to-enders' as they are called, (they are the large numbers of people who cover the miles from Lands End to John O' Groats annually by various means of transport) there is a mistaken belief that John O' Groats is the most Northerly habitation and/or the most Northerly place in the U.K. Neither is true. The most Northerly point is five miles away.

I heard a local photographer has rights over the iconic signpost used to take photographs of arrivals to Groats. When the photographer is not there, neither is the signpost. Even when the photographer is there the post is not always erected till there is obvious business. Another trader has created an alternative signpost with distances, which is fixed to his shop wall.

It is very popular with visitors. I saw people taking pictures of themselves by it with their mobile phones. It adds to the interest of the John O' Groat Harbour for present day ferry passengers, when the seasonal ferry plies its trade to and from Orkney; the fixed post is permanently there, and that was more than one could say for the 'official' signpost and its photographer.

A MIDWINTER VISIT TO GRANADA -1

Selected perspectives of Granada in midwinter:
 
A roof line at The Alhambra Palace with a stunningly forceful sky as a backdrop.


The fine detail of design work on a pillar. Wherever you looked there was beautiful pattern work. On walls, in particular, these finishes seem to have been the equivalent of our decorative wallpaper. It is possible to see how the patterned surfaces could be removed and replaced/refreshed with other designs. Undoubtedly, the artisans had a real pride in what they produced.


How timeless this Moorish floor tile pattern in the Alhambra Palace is.


The contrastsof Granada in Winter. The nearby Sierra Nevada Mountains, which are smoothly carpeted in deep snow and bathed in sunshine, provide a winter sports playground. In the town people live and work, visitors explore while enjoying the sun and the midday warmth.


In a courtyard that was a contemplative part of a religious house, there are artisans showing and selling their work.


Inside the house there is a Bélen, one of many finely made nativity scenes that are well supported with visitors, and families with excited children. Perhaps because it is a Mediterranean depiction, the characterisations are more realistic to the Middle East than the religious artistic representations you see in galleries and churches in other parts of Western Europe.


The pomegranate tree in the courtyard is pregnant with ripe and over-ripe fruit. some are dramatically splitting. The miniature fruit tree adds to the delight of this little corner of Granada.

AN IMPERFECT SHOW - FOR A CHANGE

Not all that grows in a garden is totally perfect. It can clearly be seen every time we survive a gale, a storm, or a long period of indifferent weather. So, for a change, I am posting a mixed pick of the beauties of nature. The photos were taken in limited time opportunities between long bursts of rain. 

These nasturtium leaves are the ones that were not blackened with windburn by the storms, however, you can see, like the flower, they have suffered some singeing and wind damage.

Nature has its own way of giving weather warnings, and if I am not much mistaken, these calendula flowers were protecting themselves by clustering together. Are there tiny black bugs sheltering on leaves and the underside of a petal or two.

Another one of nature's creatures taking the last of the Summer wine perhaps.

A brave burst of vibrant colour. I wanted a picture of it, just in case the flower does not survive the severe weather that is expected,

Is this insect visitor seeking food or shelter, or both from the yellow calendula flower. I think the bloom has been got at before, but, hey! Whatever size creature you are, you don't turn down easily accessible and probably desirable food.

E-READING WITH THE CAT

There has been the worthwhile remains of a money voucher waiting for some months to be used. Because of the type of voucher it was, winnings, it had to be used up in a year. It's now close to that time. I had not, in truth, given the voucher much thought, however, it flashed into consciousness and I made a flash decision about what to use the voucher for. I have ordered a Kindle e-reader.  The e-reader will have a bright pink leather cover.  It's not that I am smitten with bright pink, I quite like the colour for certain uses; it is just that the colour of the cover will avoid confusion in the household. 

My reasoning for getting an e-reader was, that I want to cut down carrying weight when I go out. Often there is time to read while waiting for someone to arrive at a meeting place. The weight issue can apply to distance travelling too. Occasionally, I travel with a laptop, though I have not taken it abroad, yet. The ubiquitous internet cafés have generally met my needs. 

Believe it or not, I dislike reading articles from a computer screen, though there are times when it is inescapable. I hate reading from a 13" laptop. Even with its clever gizmos and capacities, I could not justify the cost of an iPad, or similar, from which, reading would be like reading from any other visual display unit. Being unsure about its viability, I held back from the idea of using an e-reader. 

The computer and e-reading technologies are different and e-reading is less likely to strain the eye, in fact, from what I have seen, the screens are very gentle to read from. Unlike one relative, I am not thinking about a lightweight bed time reading machine to rest on the cat!

DO YOU KEEP BUSINESS CARDS?

The appointment card had written on it, as clearly as anything, Thursday 22nd July at 3pm. It was better, I decided, to forget the day, it was bound to be a mistake, after all the appointment was made a couple of months ago. Anyway, Friday the 22nd July 2011, is today. Off I toddled the twenty miles to keep the appointment.

There's a receptionist for the evenings but not day time. When the therapist is busy, there is a notice on the door telling you so. I was five minutes early. I sat and waited patiently in the car for the salon door to open. I let ten minutes extra go by. I read my book. By the quarter hour I was a bit concerned. A few minutes more and I phoned and left a message. For good measure, I wrote a note and posted it through the salon letter box. 

Having completed my grocery shopping in the supermarket,(a larger one than ours) I started on the drive home. My cell phone rang just as I reached a tricky bit on the road. I parked the car, (I will not take or make calls if actually driving). "I don't have you in my book for an appointment today", said the therapist, equally as puzzled as I had been, and now I was puzzled even more. 

Tonight, I checked my diary and all the current appointment cards I have. Do you keep business cards, as I do? They are always handy to have for obtaining the contact details for the enterprise you want. Just one problem arises, I have found, when the business card is also an appointment card. On checking the 2010 Calendar, I discovered that July 22nd was on a Thursday last year. Need I say more! 

DOZILY HOOFING IT WITH SHERLOCK HOLMES AND DR WATSON

The weather maps did not look brilliant from Friday through till Sunday. I do not know where the heavy plumps of rain fell that we were to expect. Thus far, we've had a few raindrops and one inconsequential shower which passed by. Unheard of I know, but I actually watered my few plants, my herbs and the edible flora I have planted.

This afternoon I sat on a cushioned recliner in a warm corner of the garden intending to read. I did read, just one short article, following which, I fell asleep in the warmth soaking up lots of natural vitamin D in the process.  Good while you can get it. To my amazement, I roused over two hours later. Resolving to go back to my reading, I completed a short detective story by the master of 20th Century mystery, Dr. Arthur Conan Doyle: Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson, what a perfect team they made!

There is bright evening sunshine now. The neighbours are busy strimming and tidying their flower borders. Another neighbour is watering his garden. 

Over at the farm, in the penned off area of the field for the lambs, a very stocky and large Suffolk lamb called Dougal, who towers over his younger compatriots, is very noisily signalling that he wants more feed in the empty trough that he is hoofing and banging. It is hoped he will be show championship material. In any case, he looks as if he is going to be quite a character.

A JINGLE BELLS COCKTAIL FOR THE EASTER WEEKEND

We missed out on the good weather during the early part of the long weekend break away from home. A North Atlantic sea haar suppressed any hint of warmth, and where it did, the sun struggled to break through. 

 

There was an almighty rainfall, just as I was treating myself to a bit of pampering at the hairdresser's. The stylist sprayed some product over her finished handiwork to deter the affects of humidity; in this case it was more like the affects of heavy precipitation. My hair really frizzes up in the damp. Apart from having lots of hair out of place, the spray seemed to work for the day. Restoring hair order the next day was more difficult.  

 

However, Sunday and Monday were lovely weather days, quite mild, great for getting washing out to dry and for exploring the world around us. Our explorations have led us to gorgeous scenery, a working Vintage Bus Museum and an Abbey dating back to 1072.  It is known that there was an ancient religious order on the Abbey site dating back to about 800AD.  Apart from the development of worshipping  formats at the location,  'plus ca change'.

 

The Easter Bunny left a little metallic balloon on a stick for the neighbour's three year old grandchild. She gave it to me. I suggested she might like to save it for me for another time. The little girl took it back, exchanging it for the tiniest sliver of chocolate Easter egg. Then, saying "Bye, bye" the little girl cheerily sang 'Jingle Bells' as she disappeared indoors, having secured a very satisfactory conclusion to her gift transactions

WHAT DO YOU UNDERSTAND BY THIS?

Request to a waitress:

Do you have filter coffee? ......

The waitress nods and says ...yes

May we have either a cafetiere each of filter coffee please and a small pot of hot milk or,
A cafetiere for two and a little pot of hot milk, please.

That's fine, she replied and she trotted off to deal with the order.
  
What  is your understanding of this request?

A PASSION FOR CARROTS

Overheard in a café...........

Assistant: Do you want anything with your coffee?

Customer: Yes please, a piece of carrot cake. 

Assistant: We have Passion cake...it's got carrot cake in it.

 TICKLED PINK BY THE THEATRE MONKEY


I am tickled pink! A friend has had his first book published.  It’s not a novel, it is a ‘guide’.   My attention was drawn to this delightful phenomenon when I heard a non-sexy BBC radio 4 discussion on ‘You and Yours’ on Friday 27th November, 2009, about London Theatre land, (London U.K that is). It can be picked up again on the BBC ‘Play it Again’ feature, for another five days or so.

I was in my car. Actually, I had just parked and was about to hop out and get into a shop, when I heard two people whinging about poor theatre seat positioning and structural problems with some views,  plus changes to seating arrangements which were unexpected, and so on, when a most useful site to help overcome such difficulties, was mentioned.

www.theatremoneky.com  “Wow!” I know that site, its developer and mainstay. I knew it in its infancy, many years ago, when it was no more than a page of words. The baby has since grown into a great, dynamic well performing international website.


Once home, I emailed my friend.  Mine was one of a clutch of similar emails he had received. Since then, I have purchased two copies of his book, Theatremonkey, by Steve Rich, to gift as presents to people I know, who would be able to get lots of benefit from it. It’s available by mail order at The book Depository (www.bookdepository.com) or Amazon.  If you are in the area, there’s also a theatre shop in Monmouth Street London W1. where the book can be found. I think the name of the shop will be on Steve’s site www.Theatremonkey.com

 HOW DO YOU SPEAK TO ME?

We have  a small intimate theatre with seating for about fifty-five people where the  local amateur dramatic group put on productions.  They  can be really good.  The regional theatre company do a rolling programme around the small communities, of which there are very many, and we get to see their work at this theatre too.

Using mostly, local people,  a  local published  play- write  gave a one act, two-hander play he had lying  in his cupboard, an airing recently.  The in-training,  theatrical director ( a local person), selected his two cast members and in the space of six weeks, the production went live.  The writing was clever, it was humorous, it had pathos, it was not just  about communication, but communicating on multiple levels.

It was a wartime story of a girl in the countryside meeting with an American airman.  Once they have learned to understand one another, they form a relationship, they, never knowing if  either one can ever  fulfil the promise of it.

Both actors worked with their scripts.  Occasionally,  'Ellie' discreetly prompted herself from it.  She had a brogue to hold  in her large role, which was laced occasionally with a little mimicry of American  speech,     I got so frustrated at one stage with 'John' stumbling through his character, though doing it, while holding his American accent, I grant you,  I shut my eyes rather than watch him.  It was then I realised, with a little adaptation, this play could work really well as a radio  play.

The female lead who gave a sparkling and powerful performance, was totally untrained.   Her  acting was so good she carried the performance.  The male  who had received  two years  formal drama training, looked the part and at various moments, demonstrated that he might, with more development, become an interesting actor.


Why would this play need need a bit of tweaking to be heard elsewhere? That's the catch.   The female lead was written in a local dialect and if you did not have any real knowledge of it, the interplay and the repartee would have gone  over your head.  There were people in the audience who were long time residents though not born here,  who did not understand all of it.   There were foreign visitors who, even with a little bit of  English, would have been utterly lost.  This is where another, if unplanned level of communication was important, and that was body language.

SHOULD I ERASE MYSELF OR WHAT..........?

I should not have been wearing those trousers, not my cream magic man-made fibre ones. Getting wet was okay, they dry off quickly enough. Hubby, "What on earth have you been doing?" ..........."prickly bushes scraped at me."............"It looks like charcoal"............."Hmm it does, the wet bits have spread"........."You'll have to rub yourself down with an eraser or two"......."Not funny, ha,ha".

Okay, I managed a smile.

So, there I was, trousers tucked into socks, sporting a striking black criss-cross pattern together with other various random black line marks, from the knees down. Looking around, hubby realised that the new pattern on my cream trousers was not from spiked bushes but from the remains of last year's burned heather stubs.

Nothing for it, those trousers go in the wash, to hopefully surface fresh and creamy, as good as new, meantime, I go on the hunt for some black walking/hiking trews.

MEETING A PRINCE OF EQUINES

We met a horse today, or rather, it decided it wanted to associate with us. I am not sure why, since himself called it 'Dobbin' . This regal, probably half thoroughbred creature, would never be trundling around like a beach ride 'Dobbin'. The other superb horse in the field, with a broader white blaze on his muzzle, maintained appropriate due disdain.

The horse was very sociable and trailed along its side of the fence in pace with us. Himself, took a liking to it and found wadges of juicy lengths of grass, different varieties if he could, for the horse to chew on. Twice we saw its teeth; not knowing a lot about horses, I wasn't sure if this was a warning or a 'hee-haw' smile. He tossed his head lightly when he did it.

Would you describe a muscular equine as dainty in any way? In this instance I would, because, when offered the handfuls of juicy blades of grasses, our four-legged companion chose not to take it all at once. Invariably, this prince of horses, savoured what was offered in at least two mouthfuls. It was also demonstrative and affectionate; it wanted to be patted after the offerings were taken.