Bucking stupid.

Clever Bird couldn't decide whether she was disappointed or furious today with the environmental activists. How is it okay for Extinction Rebellion activists to vandalise public and private property? Just because their graffiti (because that's what it is), looks neat and official, does not make it okay! In beautiful, historic Southwold, these paint-sprayed logos are appearing all over the place. These ones are on the windows of the public loos by the pier.

But there are lots more about. They've been sprayed on pavements outside the loos by the harbour, and on the boarding around a building site, and they are just the ones that Baggy has noticed.

In the summer there were messages painted on the actual harbour wall, to 'Save the environment.' Yes great; let's all try and do that! But how does vandalising the planet help to get that message across? It's not as if time, money and heaven alone knows how many chemicals are going to now have to be used to remove this graffiti is it? Idiots! It's not even getting the message across in Clever Bird's opinion. Those particular loos have been flooding for years during the winter high tides, as they're about ten feet from the beach; so most people will probably think they are official warning signs of the 'don't park here' variety. 

Here's a thought - why don't the vandals who are running around (or worse yet - driving around), spray-painting coastal towns, get themselves down onto the beach instead, and pick up plastic? 

Apologies - rant over.

Grotty Groom decided to do a bit of work with the Boy Wessles on the way home. Of course, Clever Bird got the timings all wrong; she arrived at noon aka, lunch time. Just as Grotty wandered out of the tack room, bridle and lunge line in hand, she heard the horses calling. Not for her of course, but for their lunch! 

Clever Bird can't decide whether Wesley was annoyed or delighted, when Pauline gave him some carrots instead of his usual feed, but they barely hit the sides. Grotty decided to take him down to the indoor school, for a little wander around. She tried to keep Baggy's heart rate down, by singing Christmas songs on the way down the track, as Wesley gawped at everything and snorted loudly.

Once Baggy had managed to open the heavy school door, with Wesley resting his chin on her shoulder, they wandered in. Grotty's plan was to walk around the school for a while, then take the Boy back to his stable. This was a good plan, and Wesley quite happily wandered along behind his mum. The only downside with that, being that he was so laid back that he was sniffing the hoof prints of all his stablemates, and virtually stepping on the lunge line in the process. So Grotty decided to up the anti a little, and actually lunge him. (For the non-horsey amongst you Baggees, this means letting him work at the end of the 20-foot-ish line, rather than walking with him on a short line).

Clever Bird decided that this would be good for Wesley, as standing in the stable for most of the day does cause his sheath to swell - a bit of more active walking would help with that. Wesley wasn't convinced that he wanted to leave his mum's side, and stuck to Grotty like glue. Grotty borrowed a lunging whip that was resting on the school wall.

'Come on Wessles - go out. I know it's been a while, but you know what to do.'
'If you really wantz!'
'Good boy. Walk on.'
'Iz a bit bored mum.'
'Good lad.'
'Still not feeling it.'
'Walk on.'
'Nah! Bored! I going faster.'
'Oh, you fancy trotting do you?'
'Much better.'
'Wow! That's quite a trot. You do look well. Good lad. Whoops! Mind the cavaletti poles!'
'No! Itz fun. See I can just - oops - that was harder than I thortz, but I did it.'
'Now walk.'
'Must I? Okayz!'
'Good boy. And... stand.'
'Rightho. I is coming in for a pat.'
'No. Stay out. Good boy. Walk on.'
'Boring! I trots.'
'Wow, you are feeling well. Now don't over do it. Steady!'
'But look wot I can do!'
'Ah! No Wesley! Whoa!'

As Grotty watched Wesley throwing in some massive fly bucks, she wondered how many of them she had 'sat' over the years.

'And walk.'
'You iz boring me mum. I just needs to stretch a bit.'

A couple more bucks, had Freda Fretter wondering why she hadn't made Grotty put her riding hat on, and Baggy's heart rate shooting up.

'Whoa Wes!'
'Boring - but okayz, I will.'
'Good lad. Now let's do the other rein shall we?'
'Ooooo goody. I haz quite a few more bucks in me stillz.'

As Wesley trotted, then bucked a bit more, Grotty grinned at her Boy. Grotty knew that he was just being exuberant, and letting off a bit of pent-up energy. She was in no danger at all, as the fly-bucks were all directed away from her at the full extent of the lunge line. Had he wanted to, he could easily have pulled the line out of her hands and hurtled off around the school, but he didn't want to.

'Course not mum. I iz a good horse. I just wanted to stretch.'

Grotty is so glad that Hormonal Hannah is in a good place and not preventing her from spending time with her beloved horse...

Note to readers: For the avoidance of any doubt, every character in this blog is Baggy! No Baggy was harmed in its writing, although some of them get pretty confused!

Baggy has an unwelcome bed fellow.

Baggy has a new bedfellow, and she doesn't like him at all! He shows up about every other night at present, and she really wishes that he wouldn't. Clever Bird has tried everything she can think of to get rid of him; she sends Baggy to bed later and later, but still he joins her. His name is Insomnia and he is a proper nuisance!

It was probably gone 2.00 when Baggy finally fell asleep last night. And in the three hours that that took, Creative Clara wrote a nutty blog (in Baggy's head). It was all about the vagaries of the English language. Not that she can remember it today of course, but the gist of it:

It wood bee a lot easier too reed english if their were knot sew many spellings of words that sound the same butt meen sum thing else all together. 

Orr, if a wurd waz spellt how it sowendz, insted ov how it haz ended up. 

Anyway, Insomnia finally got board enuff of Clara's thorts to lett Baggy go to sleep - sorry Baggees, normal service will now be resumed...

Because Clever Bird had a feeling that Insomnia was going to sit on Baggy for hours again last night, she had the foresight to set the alarm for 8.00. Naturally, when it went off, Baggy was far from amused, but Bracket kat and Pepper Pooch decided that it was a great thing that Furry Mama wasn't going to sleep for half the morning, and leapt on her to make sure that she didn't turn over and go back to sleep.

Baggy was so wiped out though, that it took her a while, a long shower and two cups of tea to get her going, but she finally got the pooch to the beach for 10.00.

Clever Bird got rather a shock when she realised how windy it was! It was relatively calm at home, but the wind on the beach was literally whipping up a sand storm. So funnily enough, Furry Mama had the beach pretty much to herself! Baggy looked like some famous film star in her sunglasses (in the gloom), but at least they protected her eyes a little. The pooch on the other hand could do with some goggles.

Not that he seemed particularly bothered by it.

Baggy was so cold, that she decided a cappuccino in town was required, along with a sneaky croissant! And a quick visit to Seasalt to buy another pair of gloves, before heading back down onto the beach.

Then Grotty Groom got her way, and Baggy took her to the yard, where she spent a happy hour grooming her Boys. (Yes, Freda Fretter agrees that these are awful photos of Grotty Baggees, but the horses look cute, so who cares?)

Clever Bird does think that Creative Clara needs to work on her selfie technique, but when the horses just want a treat, it doesn't help!

After they had their herb treats, Grotty had one last attempt at a selfie in the tack room:

It is what it is - a windswept 60 year-old woman, who doesn't know how to pose for selfies!

But Grotty was happy, and the pooch had a good snooze in Billy Bob Jalopy campervan, snuggled up in his towelling drying coat. And having now been home for a couple of hours, Baggy is almost warm. 

Is it time for bed yet?...

Note to readers: For the avoidance of any doubt, every character in this blog is Baggy! No Baggy was harmed in its writing, although some of them get pretty confused!

Blown away.

It's a little annoying that just as Baggy got the gang into a bit of a routine, she had to get a lurgy. It's been a couple of weeks now, and unfortunately, although she's considerably better than she was, Baggy doesn't seem to have much energy. Clever Bird did a little more looking into what on earth happened to Baggy last Sunday, and she's concluded that it was almost certainly Norovirus; which she probably contracted when she and Calum went to hospital a few days earlier. But whatever the other (earlier) lurgy was, she just doesn't seem to be able to shake it. 

Baggy seems fine, but as soon as she does anything much, she gets shaky, breathless, dizzy and feels faint - it's annoying! Despite that, she was determined to start the gang's routine again today, only to wake up to really strong winds - no Baggees, not her own winds, seriously, how do your minds' work? - nature's winds. So strong in fact, that as The Domestic Goddess was making Baggy a cup of tea to try to get rid of her headache, she glanced out of the kitchen window and watched the rotary-drier spinning so fast that it was about to launch itself from its hole in the ground! Attired only in number one furry's dressing gown, The Domestic Goddess shot outside to take the washing off the line. The good news was, that in spite of being out overnight in the rain, the washing was totally dry! Naturally, half of it nearly took off in the wind, as The Goddess attempted to carry it, and defend Baggy's modesty at the same time, but she only lost two pairs of knickers, that happily flew across the garden.

It did occur to Clever Bird, that driving Billy Bob Jalopy campervan anywhere in such strong winds, probably wasn't wise though - he has a habit of whipping sideways when there's a gap in a hedge, even in fairly gentle winds, and these weren't gentle! This meant that Furry Mama couldn't go to the beach, and Grotty Groom couldn't get to see her Boys, so The Domestic Goddess had to get active instead. She was doing the washing up, gazing into the garden, as Furry Mama watched her featheries sitting on the fences. 

'What are you lot up to?'
'Just wants you to throwz my ball mum.'
'What are you looking at?'
'My ball - throwz it pleaz mum.'
'What Peps? Oh right - there you go.'

As Pepper launched himself across the kitchen after his ball, Furry Mama realised what all the featheries were looking at:

Their table, is no more! 

Furry Mama decided that it is a 'sign'. The gorgeous bird table that number one furry bought a few weeks ago, that doesn't yet have a home, will be taking pride of place.

Furry Mama put some seed out in a bowl for the featheries; not that they seem to have figured out that it's there yet.

Baggy is hopeful that tomorrow the wind will have blown away, and that the gang can start their routine once more...





Note to readers: For the avoidance of any doubt, every character in this blog is Baggy! No Baggy was harmed in its writing, although some of them get pretty confused!

It's the little things that matter.

The state that the poor world is in at present, is too sad to contemplate. But contemplate it, we should! However, looking at the big picture is a) terrifying and b) pointless unless you are an expert. But the gang have been thinking about all the little things that they can do to make a difference.

• Leave your leaves in the garden.
• Turn your heating down a degree.
• Pick up one piece of plastic from the beach.
• Rescue a dog/horse/cat/mouse/rabbit/guinea pig - any furry.
• Plant something.
• Use the eco-cycle on the washing machine.
• Use your mobile phone less.
• Wear clothes until they wear out.
• Re-use your Christmas tree every year.
• Change your bedding less often.
• Give your old glasses to an eyesight charity.
• Feed the birds.
• Pay a complete stranger a sincere compliment.
• Turn your air-con down a degree.
• Rescue that bug from the puddle.
• Eat and drink a tiny bit less.
• Put a permanent log pile in your garden.
• Do not upgrade your phone unless it's stopped working.
• Do not miss your NHS doctor/nurse/dentist/hospital appointment.
• Join and use a library.
• Hand-down your kid's clothes and toys.
• Only go to Accident and Emergency if it is one.
• Buy locally produced food.
• Hug a tree (it'll make both of you feel better).
• Treat everything with kindness.
• Smile at everyone you pass by.
• Volunteer.
• Dry your washing on the line.
• Walk more.
• Drive a little more slowly.
• Leave a bowl of drinking water in your yard.
• Do not leave 'it' on standby.
• Leave some of the cobwebs.
• Send less (a lot less) Christmas cards.
• Collect rainwater.
• Recycle everything you can.
• Don't have Christmas crackers - have a silly (re-usable Christmas hat) instead. Tell your own jokes. Have a 'silver' charm, or a 'sixpence', in the Christmas pudding.
• Switch off the lights in the room you're not in.
• Put a hole in your fence to let the hedgehogs through.
• Try to do at least three of these every day.

Clever Bird doesn't believe that it's always healthy to focus wholly on the big picture. By focussing instead on the little things, the brushstrokes as it were, that make up that picture, things can make more sense.

Creative Clara is incapable of painting a masterpiece; but she's more than capable of painting lots of the multi-coloured single brushstrokes, that are needed to create that illusive painting. If she were to combine her brushstrokes with everyone else's, who knows how many masterpieces could be created between them?

If everybody did their one tiny bit to help the world, what a difference our seemingly insignificant efforts would make.

It's the little things that matter in this life...

Note to readers: For the avoidance of any doubt, every character in this blog is Baggy! No Baggy was harmed in its writing, although some of them get pretty confused!

A time for thinking

Walking along the beach, observing two well-dressed, middle-aged women, walking and talking, as their dogs trot on in front of them. One stops, and does a massive poo (a dog Baggees, not a woman - you are daft!). Furry Mama watches, waiting for one of the women to dig out a poo-bag and pick it up. She continues to watch as, without stopping, the taller woman kicks a bit of sand over the poo, as she carries on walking and talking. 

• Furry Mama was furious. 
• Hormonal Hannah was too scared to say anything. 
• Baggy was too squeamish to pick up another dog's poo.
• Clever Bird wondered how big a 'sin' it actually was, considering that the tide would shortly wash it away from the almost deserted beach, and it was one less plastic bag going into landfill.

Listening to a hoot-off in the garden last night, between three different owls; Big Ears and Barny were extremely tuneful.

• Furry Mama felt really sorry for Screech, whose name is highly appropriate - but presumably Mrs Screechy liked it.
• Freda Fretter worried about Bracket kat, who was out there in the garden with them.
• Gloria Gardener rejoiced that she has such a little bit of paradise to look after.

Feeling pretty ghastly from whatever illness nobbled Baggy earlier in the week.

• Clever Bird was just happy that it was only temporary.
• Psychic Ploppo said a little prayer for all of her friends who have been fighting much more serious illnesses.

Observing the devastation and mayhem that a certain bored furry pooch, artistically created when Furry Mama couldn't get out earlier in the week.

• The Domestic Goddess decided that it wasn't her main priority.
• Furry Mama decided that the pooch had every right - it is Pepper's bed after all.
• Freda Fretter wondered what number one furry would make of it when he got home from his pristine lorry.
• Clever Bird decided that it just looked like extra Christmas decorations... Let it snow...

Munching a rather nice (if rather fattening) bacon, brie and cranberry panini this morning, looking across the sea back to Southwold.

• Baggy counted her Blessings.
• Freda Fretter worried that the brie might yet fight back.
• Furry Mama thought how cute the pooch looked in his new drying coat, after his swim in the sea.
• Grotty Groom wished that it was a bit warmer, so that Baggy would take her to see her Boys.
• Creative Clara took photos.

Thinking, that all things considered, life is good...

Note to readers: For the avoidance of any doubt, every character in this blog is Baggy! No Baggy was harmed in its writing, although some of them get pretty confused!

Feeling rough!

When Baggy was younger, she was always (well, mostly), quite fit and healthy. Not so much anymore! Creative Clara was going to put a Baggy Health Warning, of the 'Do not continue to read this if you're squeamish' kind of variety, but just thinking about her descriptions, she decided not to even go there! Let's just say Baggees, that on Sunday night, when Calum was already tucked up in bed ready for his stupid-o'clock start, Baggy was so poorly, that Freda Fretter was actually scared! Apart from the indescribable (because you really don't want her to) symptoms, Baggy was so cold, that her shivering was bashing her teeth together and causing her muscles to spasm.

Indeed, yesterday morning, when Clever Bird did a quick, 'Check your symptoms' search on the NHS website, a big flashy red symbol came up with a message saying, Call 999, and order an ambulance immediately. Naturally, by then, the majority of the symptoms had passed, so she didn't, but Freda Fretter realised that once again she probably had been right to be scared. Hmmm. Clever Bird is not sure whether it's flu, gastroenteritis, food poisoning or a continuation of the weird lurgy that Calum and Baggy had a week-or-so ago, but whatever it is, Baggy could do without it! 

Yesterday, Baggy felt a teeny bit better, but didn't have the energy to do anything. Even her eyelids hurt, and putting one foot in front of the other was hard work; so in spite of actually sleeping reasonably well after the indescribables had finished, and Clever Bird had put four extra throws on Baggy and made her a hot-penguin (don't ask), she went back to bed for a lie down at noon. At 3.30 she was woken by Calum phoning to check how she was. She must then have gone back to sleep, because next time she woke up, it was dark. It turned out to be 5.45!

She had eaten nothing all day, partly because she truly wasn't hungry, and mainly because Freda Fretter didn't dare risk it, but The Domestic Goddess decided that she needed to eat something, so warmed up a can of tomato soup. Baggy managed to eat it without incident - phew - and felt a teeny bit better still. At 9.00, she went to bed once again, thinking that she wouldn't sleep but needed to rest her achy muscles, but must have fallen asleep instantly! And for once had a fairly uninterrupted night's sleep.  

Thankfully today she feels almost back to normal, apart from having zero appetite and being achy still, so as the pooch hadn't been out since Saturday, Furry Mama persuaded Baggy to take him to the beach. Probably not sensible, as Baggy is still quite shaky and breathless, but she drove at the speed of a lazy snail, and got there safely.

Naturally, Baggy is now exhausted, as thankfully is the pooch, so she's flopping about, trying to keep warm, getting excited for Christmas...

Note to readers: For the avoidance of any doubt, every character in this blog is Baggy! No Baggy was harmed in its writing, although some of them get pretty confused!

It's that time of year.

Naturally after yesterday's blog, Baggy couldn't sleep! Hormonal Hannah and Freda Fretter were both thinking that Creative Clara shouldn't have been so honest about how much the horses cost Grotty Groom and Calum. She was fretting that maybe Baggees will be thinking that she was being flash or something - showing off about how much they have spent over the years. Actually, it was the opposite. She was horrified about how much it costs to own horses, and although Clever Bird is well aware that it has frequently meant that Baggy and Cal were living beyond their means, she'd never dared to do the maths before!! Now she remembers why!

When she first became Wessle's human, Grotty used to keep a little book of the costs involved. After about nine months, having realised that even though she had an extremely well-paid job, due to the massive size of her mortgage, she could not afford to own a horse! So, she did the obvious thing - she stopped monitoring how much he cost her; stuck her head in the sand and carried on. She would have sold her house, before she sold her horse!

Pre-Wesley, Baggy smoked like a chimney. When the doctor asked her, she would grudgingly admit to 20-30 a day, but truthfully, it was more like 30-40! She smoked 100s, and having just checked the current cost, she was stunned! Let's say that they are £10 a packet (they're more!); and that Baggy only smoked 20 a day (she didn't); then since she has owned Wesley (over 14 years), had she still been a smoker, she would have spent £49,280 on fags! The truth is Baggees, that when you do the maths on anything, it's a shock!

Do you drink coffee? A cappuccino a day - that's £9,912, even if you only had 20 a month. Go out on a Friday night? What do you spend? £20? Well that's £14,560!! Do you have a decent holiday each year? What does it cost? £1,000? That's another £14,000. So, yep Baggees, when you do the maths it's terrifying. But as long as what you do, you do because you love it - then what else is money for? And Grotty and Calum adore their horses!

Freda was also worrying that she'd given the impression that her horse is a nutter, and that Grotty must be a really bad rider. He isn't; and she isn't! In fact Wesley is a total sweetheart. Yes, he's extremely sharp, and rather spooky sometimes, but he hasn't an unworthy thought in his head. He does have kissing-spine though, which can be incredibly painful, when his vertebrae trap a nerve; and if this happens, he has to stop the pain - the pain that is worse because Grotty is sitting on the trapped nerve - solution - get the pain aka Grotty off his back!

So, in the fourteen years that Grotty has spent with Wesley, and in the hundreds of hours that she has ridden him for, she has had only 6 unscheduled dismounts! Of those, on only one occasion did Grotty actually genuinely fall off him; the other 5 times, he got Grotty off his back to get rid of the pain! Three of these, resulted in Baggy spending time in hospital. And each time, as soon as the pain stopped, he shot over to Grotty to check where she'd gone. 

Baggy eventually got to sleep at around 2.00am, satisfied that she will happily let Grotty spend another £95,000 to keep her beloved horse happy for the next 14 years, if she needs to. And determined to lose a couple of stone, so that she can start to ride him once more. And she might cut back on the cappuccinos too!

This morning, as promised, a half asleep Creative Clara shot up the garden to show the shed building progress.

It's no longer in the way, and the new one can now be built without obstruction.

Steve came today, to get on with the build. While he was at it, Cal and Baggy got the Christmas decorations down from the attic! Guess what Clara has been doing all day! 

Yep Baggees, Clara has indeed put up three trees! Amongst other things.

She'll take more photos when there's some light tomorrow, but forget classy, tasteful, coordinated decorations Baggees, this is the Baggy household, and if it didn't move, it got decorated...

... it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

Note to readers: For the avoidance of any doubt, every character in this blog is Baggy! No Baggy was harmed in its writing, although some of them get pretty confused!