Wendy and Caitlin have just come by with the horses...and the dogs. Total bedlam ensued. Nancy and Tilly leaping back and forth over our garden wall and Tilly racing between Mustapha's enormous feet...Savannah has been loaned to one of Wendy's friends and now she has this huge animal with feet like dinner plates...Princess was ripping the grass out of our verge as though she was half -starved and Wendy talked...and talked...and talked.
About horses and lack of grazing and the expense of hay and concentrate and falling off while riding and the cost of shoeing and horses and then some more about horses...what is it with women who own horses for crying out loud...they're obsessed so they are...and actually slightly boring after five minutes as well.
It's all getting a little bit difficult 'cos their land around their cottage is a quagmire...they only have just under an acre to feed two horses and the grass has long gone of course, so they feed hay ad lib, but put it on the footpath outside the back door. Even Tom, who has a rather messy farmyard, is beginning to putter about the general state of their place. And Nancy chases bicycles, which causes all manner of complaints because everyone in the street uses bikes for going to and from their buildings and fields...
Little Tilly, who doesn't seem to have actually grown at all, is copying everything Nancy does and now she's beginning to chase after cars and bikes as well...she's so tiny that it's a wonder she hasn't been squished.
And Nancy still isn't wearing a collar and neither is Tilly if it comes to that and I keep hammering on about the dog warden who would take them away if he found them on the road without collars...especially the Roscommon chap who is plain nasty. The Sligo one would find out where they lived but the Roscommon one wouldn't bother.
Jamie came up last evening...I swear he comes here because he knows we'll listen to him and he doesn't have to compete with his little brothers for any attention. Caitlin doesn't count in that scenario...she's so horribly self-contained.
I read your replies out to him about going into the Marines...he was enthralled by the fact you all took the time to answer about someone you don't know and will never meet. And it hadn't occurred to him he might well have to shoot another person either...gave him something to think about.
Then he had us both flabbergasted when he announced he and his friend James are going to cut up wood from the forestry land and sell it as firewood. There's a small planting of forestry next to their cottage which is privately owned. When the trees are thinned out or completely cut down there is an understanding local people can help themselves to the odd bits left-over...which most folk avail of. But you can't go in with a chain saw and chop down perfectly good trees to sell on...he looked a bit non-plussed at that and said but they wouldn't know. And he wants to breed Tilly when she's old enough...we are so the wrong people to tell about plans to breed dogs when Ireland is awash with strays...
It occurred to me later on that his parents might have raised the same objections and he was sounding us out...
Could be worse I suppose.