Flying Hooves on Saturday

My Saturday morning was quiet, some simple pottering, walking the dog, and a little sewing.  Gentle and enjoyable.  

Max continued working on the hen house extension.  

The extension is going to become a garage for Hector's little car, which will be a great improvement on the nylon car cover, which probably wouldn't survive another winter.

I decided to nip down to see Benedict a little earlier than normal as I wanted to go to the Little Bunting Bazaar and I didn't want to arrive there in my dirty old jacket and horse-grubby hands, although I am sure no-one would have noticed.

Because I was early Benedict was in the middle of the field, grazing.   As I went in the yard he lifted his head and looked across, then amazed me by whinnying and cantering over to me.

I didn't know that old horse could move so fast!    

He was all flying mane, tail and hooves.   It was impressive and beautiful.    He finished up with a playful (powerful) nudge of my shoulder, almost knocking me off my feet.

I think he was happy to see me!   Of course he associates my visits with food and company, a bright spot in his quiet day.    I hope he also feels some of the love I have for him, he certainly stands there stoically, as I hug him and murmur sweet nothings to him.

A quick nip home, to wash my hands and change into something a little cleaner, then I walked back along our muddy little lane (wearing wellies, one has to be practical!) and down to the village hall.  

All the windows and doors were closed.   They couldn't fool me though, I knew a 'party' was going on in there!  

I walked in and was hit by a wall of heat and stuffy air, almost turned tail and back into the bracing wind and finger-nipping cold outside.

The place seemed full, but this is a tiny village hall and twenty people can make it seem as though it is bursting at the seams.    Unbuttoning my coat I dug deep into my pockets, purchasing raffle tickets for this and that,  bought tombola tickets, a cake and a jar of  marmalade.     I didn't want to buy tee shirts, or ornaments, calendars  or rather dull books, so  I bought a cup of tea and a mince pie.

I had a dozen quick conversations with people I rarely see, then had a good long chat with Mrs Read who told me a few more snippets about her wedding and reception (Dovecote Dell, 1953) she also pointed out a relative newcomer to the village, to their mutual delight they had discovered that Mrs Read had taught her, many years ago.

She was sitting all alone, probably enjoying some peace and quiet, but I went and introduced myself anyway and we had a great chat and have arranged to do some dog walking together.  

Another flit around the hall, a few more pounds spent on tickets for things I hope I won't win, and then back out into the deliciously cold and invigorating air.   Bliss!

When I got home I was greeted by this lovely sight...

The best part of the day was the greeting that this boy gave me though.   Who would have thought he could still move like that?

Poppy and Miles, we'll be Skyping you later, love, Mumxxxxxxxxxxx