Irish Summer Rain

The pony camp is over. Leaving me utterly tired, and left once more to my little world during the day. The camp was fun, the children got on beautifully, learnt to ride much better and many ended up doing a show jumping 'run' or whatever it is called on the final day.

And apparently I am a natural rider.

Of course, being me, I am naturally amazing at many things, but horses is a surprise. Although being amazing at things unfortunately means I also happen to be amazing at cleaning stables, which is a daily occurrence.

But shoveling piles of poop and sweeping out puddles of piss really is not as bad as it sounds, once the job is done I have 9 (or 10 I have not actually counted) clean stables ready for tomorrows piles to be deposited for me to clear away again.

I wouldn't mind being a stable hand if I could ride better.

Defecation, A.D.D. and Goldfish

Arrival at the farm of tipperary was achieved on a friday. After a wander through Thrules, where a book and a meal were acquired I was unceremoniously picked up by the boss lady with a honk of the horn and a 'come hither post haste' wave followed by what could have been a hollywood chase scene through the irish countryside, zipping around tractors and slow drivers in the mistubishi lancer, only we were only being chased by lateness and persuing lost time.

The farm itself is simply that, not flashy in any sense at first glance, quite typical, it seems, of the surrounds. It is a farm based on 17 or so horses that are bred, sold and used to teach riding skill and for horse rides through the shire-esque (of hobbit fame) green rolling hills, little paved lanes canopied with leaves and green fields dotted with ancient walls and mounds covering ruins long forgot.
'This sounds wonderful!' one might say, 'Absolutely divine, how lucky you are to be in such a place!' one might amble on.
Yes it is pretty and horses are very nice, if you like irish weather which consists of constant cloud and the perpetual rain, if not in typical 'rain' form, then in humidity, on the ground in the latest puddle design or 'my clothes are still wet from three days ago' shape. And of course its wonderful if you like horses.
I liken them to cats, rather fickle, a bit unpredictable and irritable. While I like (most) cats, imagine a cat that is 300kg, has muscle to match and does not want to move from its bed, even though it has defecated everywhere (... everywhere), and it decides its grumpy today.

While I do not have much experience with horses it seems the effort involved with keeping them (over 10 at least) far outweighs the fun. I would rather a husky team, dogs are so much simpler.

Anyway, I am learning much about horses and how to handle them, which is going slower then i would like, as I am looking on while helping out with a Pony Camp.
After the day of cleaning, running round with humans half my age that seem to never stop talking on completly inane and pointless subjects, have the attention spans of a goldfish sadly afflicted with severe A.D.D. and keep stating facts like they are discoveries (Its Raining! Thats a big horse! I Fell! etc) I retreat to my caravan unit thing and cook too much bad food and queue up old music on this tiny laptop with its crappy speakers. For I am the only worker here doin the wwoofin gig since the two others left so once again I must keep myself sane by myself. I dunno if i can last 4 weeks.

That said, I am having a pretty good time.

In other news I must decide whether to return to my much loved country after a detour in Asia and be home before christmas, or try to get a job in Scotland, most likely forfeiting my ticket home and come back in january, in the next few days.

Hmm!!

Wwoofing

I am in Ireland on a farm, being a (somewhat) Willing (sometimes) Worker On (mostly) Organic (not really a) Farm. The farm in question is actually an equine based business where you learn to ride horses, I dont really consider this a farm but who am I, a complete non farmer, to judge?
As I am here, in stable accommodation with foods and whatnots, I thought this a good opportunity to resurrect this rather dead and now stinky blog from the metaphorical ashes of obscurity that comes with neglect and lack of interesting things to write about.

Although the second point probably wont change.

I will also endeavor to take some photos every day and post them here or link to them.

Hopefully this will work and get me tattering away again with the inane and often mindless chatter that so soaks this page like ever present irish rain through my single pair of jeans.

Needing wants

When I began this errand into the wide blue, I expected the unexpected around every corner, or at east around every second corner, characterful characters that would take me under their smelly sleeve and whist me off on wildly wandering adventures, never wanting for needs or needing wants but living for the awakened moments where you see that the sun shines brighter when you have a smile and a smile to smile at. I thought that my town, sleepy and quiet, was quiet because it lacked the unexpected around the corners and the characters that made the rest of the world so exciting. My errand was to find these things, these magical places and fantasticational (people that educate you with their fantasticalness) people and find out how they worked, and then be able to create them anywhere.

As it turns out corners are really quite predictable...

And I have not encountered a mad hatter with smelly sleeves...

I don't seem to be one that attracts the unexpected and the unconventional, or is it that I don't do the unexpected or be unconventional? I am quite sure it is the latter. It is probably said, by some one some where that you create your own reality, so it seems that I am a blind man looking for red.

I am in London, after what was an unexcuseably lazy week in Menorca, a sick few days in Brighton and a day or so in Bristol. It is nice here, far north london. It is like being at home. Which is worrying as I am again doing so little. Speaking with Jonathan in between movies and sleep-ins, my equally relaxed host who just got back from a 6 month journey, I wonder what it will be like when I do return, as plans for change seem to be easily forgotten.