Highlight the Pony Speaks

Here I am in the field with you guys, Honeybun and Rosie. The other ponies have been dragged out of the field and taken for a cold cold ride but we are fine just hanging out here together, watching the mad hunt galloping about the distant moor hallooing and yelling and blowing their horns.

"Highlight....Highlight..."

Oh God, it's the Big Bossy One (BB) , the singing blonde one (SB) and the freckly one with the grin (FG). Quick guys, lets leg it up to the top field and see how much they want me.....

(Canter canter shimmy my furry coat....)
Oh they have a carrot. Hellooooooooooooooo.
Bugger. They have a headcollar.
The Fools! HA! It's a very big horse size headcollar and I am a very small pony composed mostly of fur and atttitude. Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
(Canter canter shimmy my furry coat, flick my tintin haircut..)

Ah. BB has her arms around my furry neck and has worked out how to tighten the collar so I had better go with them. Mosey slowly down the hill. Look soulfully at Rosie and Honeybun. Through the gate. Poo in the garden.

Saddle time...puff out furry belly, puff puff, to make sure that they can't tighten saddle and guarantee slippage later he he. Bloooooooooooowww.

BB explains to SB and FG that you should always keep headcollar on until bridle is on to minimise chances of escape. Then forgets. I see open gate, no headcollar bridle...heading for the lane...

(canter canter shimmy my furry coat..)...ooooooh am bit slower than normal because BB is hanging onto the pommel of saddle while FG scampers round and shuts gate....made BB run fast while hanging on to me though. She did canter canter shimmy shimmy too.
Now going to GALLLOP. YAY!!!!!! Around the field I go, gallop, mane and tail flying....Dad is watching me from up the ladder, Archie is looking out of his bedroom window and everyone can see how silly BB looks galloping round the field in her wellies through the poo trying to catch meeeeee..........

Sudden stop. My little owner Jenny can see me. I am Being A Good Boy. I will Stop Instantly and show what a Good Boy I am. BB takes opportunity to put bridle on and I am captured.

Out on the open road we go. SB riding even though her feet nearly touch the ground. He he I'm going homee.....trot trot turn arou....bugger. BB is stronger than I am and made me go up the road. Guess not going home for a while.

Oh look, lady in car waiting to get past. Time to show my pirouetting skills. Can actually tie BB up in rope by going round and round. She is now pinned to the spot. Equines have the right of way, right? I am SO going to use it..la la la I'm going home.........

Bugger, thwarted again by BB. Now a change of rider..FG. Remember how I refused to trot for SB? Now I refuse to stop trotting for FG. Giving BB a helluva work out...now who's doing canter canter shimmy shimmy in her big green wellies. Trot shimmy eat some grass....and now remember I puffed out my belly earlier? Now the saddle is slipping and FG is halfway up my neck he he...I'm going home.....

Back in the yard. They have carrots. I am a completely still and docile furry slug type pony. No one would believe what an attitude I have. But I love you BB, SB, and FG because you have carrots. And now it's hello Rosie and Honeybun, canter canter shimmy my furry body up the hill, shouting for you, ooooh just stopping for  quick roll. That was fun.

School transport by Supernanny

I knew things were going to be different in Devon partly by the personal service we received on the school bus. To me, school bus resonates of rowdy children, displeased drivers, illicit backseat activity, (obviously I am well qualified to judge having been in boarding school myself from age 7). So on Day One of New Term the children were dispatched to the bus bearing shiny new transport passes, clear instructions on rules and regulations ..everything bar a sign round their neck saying "if found please return to Moorglow". Waiting nervously at the bottom of our hill, the Bus arrived in the form of a taxi for five children. The driver, Albert, looked slightly perplexed as the transport passes were thrust eagerly at him, being rightly convinced that as he was only transporting five children he might notice if there was a stowaway.
When the children were returned to Moorglow by Albert at the end of Day One at the New School, he delivered a message to me via Gran from the Headteacher about how well their first day had gone...and that has set the tone for future interactions. Albert has since advised us on the potential of child number one as a singer (he should know, he gets her singing at him twice a day, every day), has refereed arguments between farty boys, gathered up shingle shoes, PE kit, school books, and delivered the children direct to the door in the rain.
He was most displeased when he heard that my children were arguing so much in the morning that they were separated and parked at Breakfast Club one at a time by their father. Later that week, they were returned to me at the end of the day by Albert saying "I've spoken to the children, and I don't think they'll be arguing in the mornings again". And they bloody haven't. Every other time of the day, but not mornings. I have no idea what he said to them, but he achieved in one short taxi ride more than the wit of me could manage, so now I call him Supernanny.
And when they go to secondary school, I believe that there is a driver who brings his Mum along to sit with the children...and she has a fearsome reputation. I can't wait.

Love and relationships 10 year old and 8 year old style..

Pre teen daughter has apparently been asked out by a boy called Teabag. As she is very very pre-teen (by three whole years) I have advised her not to "go out" with anybody. This, it transpires, might be a bit of a problem as she didn't like to say no to Michael when he asked her out in case she hurt his feelings. Or Finlay. And she is a bit worried that William has also told someone he loves her which is only going to compound the problem as if he asks her out she probably won't want to hurt his feelings either.
"You can't go out with anybody at all" I said.
"Why?"
"Because you're ten."
"When can I?"
"When you're thirteen" (delivered definitively and in way of firm boundary setting/good parenting).
Pause.
"I'll make a deal with you", she says, thrusting out her hand "Twelve and the deal is signed". (delivered definitively and as if she was born with the art of persuasion/ determination).
Pause while mother negotiates line between maintaining open and honest communication in preparation for the teenage years with the urge to be very very clear about what is acceptable for a ten year old and beyond. Decide to try a different approach.
Very tentatively I ask, fearing the worst, "Darling, when you "go out" with somebody, you don't hold hands or anything do you?"
"URRRRRRRRRRRRGHGGGGGGGGG . WHY would I want to do that Mum?"
I think that means we are ok for a while yet...

Tomorrow: Read all about Billy and the Love Club...

Two fat ponies...

Today I decided to live the pony dream...borrowing two Thelwell type Shetland ponies from a friend at Hillbottom. Feeling like a true Devonian pony type, I casually led one pony while child number 1 (Ashleigh, for the blog!) rode the other. These ponies are half my height but thrice my width, but cute as furry equine teddies. We meandered happily along the lane, waving graciously to tourists and day trippers, and smiling indulgently at the children in the cars pressing their eager little faces against the glass (Look Mummy, poniiiieeeeeeeeeees). Cue the Attitude Attack of the ponies. It was not pretty, but suffice to say my humiliation was encapsulated by the moment where I was hanging on to one cute pony with one hand while shoving my entire bodyweight against the considerable backside of the other,  which he had determinedly planted in the middle of the road.  The faces of the children inside the car changed from misty eyed envy to outright snorting at the naughty pony and grunting, red-faced adult, while the driving dad struggled to keep the tolerant smile on his face.
Of course, the thinking goes, if we had our VERY OWN pony then it wouldn't be naughty would it.....?

Today I have been mostly following a path to see where it goes..

Today I followed an 8 year old (for the purposes of the blog, called Billy) through the woods ... and very inspiring it was too. Over logs, under branches, with no attention to which was the easiest way as it was perfectly obvious that we should take the most interesting way instead. I wasn't feeling physically my best thanks to weeks of coldy buggy virusy thing, so was happy to plod along in his wake. And then there was a magical moment where he started to construct a story . Characters called Gobbums with a king called Rockathorn (and a pretender called Rockavon), mirrors and underworlds, swords and heroes (called Billy..!)For me, it was a door opening into an 8 year old world with all its magic and possibilities.
And as Billy told me at the beginning when I suggested we might be getting lost, "Mum, I told you it was an adventure. I didn't say it was a guided tour!" Well, there's a mantra for life.