Count To Ten

Mid fight or mid argument, my mother's voice rings through my head... "Count to 10 before you say anything you'll regret or hate later"

It never really worked, obviously, anything that my parents would tell me I would actively avoid being obedient to. For some reason, I cannot think why...

Frustratingly though, as I have been discovering more and more with growing up and remembering what my parents have taught me. There is some truth behind most of what they say.

Aged 10, they were spoil sports, who didn't want to have any fun and claimed that most fights would end in tears and therefore, giving up before the tears would be the better way around. 10 years on, and I still like to stir up trouble, but I try and get out of it before tears appear... so it's not my fault... obvs.

The parrot in my mind that repeats 'count to 10 before you say anything you'll regret or hate later' until I give up and stop baiting people, is extremely true and relevant in today's crazy, fast and electronically driven world. 

Three seconds. 

That is approx the amount of time that it takes to send a comment of love or abuse, on Facebook. You type it and click 'enter'. The deed is done. 

Yes, of course, you can delete it, but you don't know how many people refreshed at the point that you clicked 'enter'. You don't know how many people read it and didn't read the humour or the joke behind it. 

Some aren't jokes, as with all things, but I would've said most of the rude things I put on Facebook/the internet are jokes. Banter. Made for laughs. 

But it's cold. It's black and white. There's no smile after it, no wink to say it's a joke. No way of working out if that person joked or was serious.

I would like there to be a confirm thing, 10 seconds after you've written the message and pressed 'enter' that lets you, after 10 seconds confirm what you've written. 

You would have the option to delete it or to edit it... maybe to be nicer. 10 seconds later, your mind would have reconsidered and put into perspective what you just read. 

This could be the same with texts. Imagine how many friends you'd still have... or how many dates you'd still have because drunk texting wouldn't work. 

It only takes 10 seconds to change your mind.

It would be interesting to see how many trolls/horrid people there would be still on the internet. Maybe we would be able to work out who is horrid and who is just irate at the time of sending the message. 

Anyways, if I was PM, this is what I would put forward.

Yours, counting to ten-ly,

X

Make A House A Home

Housemates. 

The maker or breaker of a home. 

Family - can't choose them, everyone seems to have their own lives and you manage to just muck in and deal with them. Fights happen, days pass when you don't talk and then suddenly you're besties again. Food is eaten, together, whatever the emotions and you learn to understand that it's easier to be tolerable and to tolerate than to be the 'bee's knees' as the world of family has no bee's knees. In fact everyone is their own bee's knees. 

Housemates - uni, school, work. You choose them. You make a conscious decision that you like the human and live with them. 

In my experience, living with people you don't know is so fun. A bit like family, you all have different lives and the easiest thing to do is to muck in. Another change is that if you're all from different backgrounds then you all have different morals  which again is beaut to work alongside. 

The laughs, the tears, the screams and the hugs. Housemates, be that, family or other are brilliant.

They are what makes a house a home.  

Be a brilliant housemate. Empty the dishwasher, make a hot water bottle for someone. Give them a lift at 2:30 am when you've been woken from the best sleep. Be the best hugger. 

Poo in the other housemates bathroom (as a generous gift, obvs!)

Be the home. 

Yours homely...

X 

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

Thunder. Magical Thunder.

If I was you, reading this post, I would hate it already; especially if you follow me on Insta or Facebook.

Thunder - I like both connotations of the word. Thunder as in 'thunder and lightning' and Thunder, my 17hh Irish Sport Horse X, 14 year old hero.

My use of hero there is repulsive. I am repulsing myself but the word is to stay.

All of my life I have grown up with horses; starting off with being put on a donkey by my mother before I was 2 and having a shetland for my birthday from my aunt aged 3.

For those who think that horses are easy, you should hear some stories. One I've got about my cheeky little shetland - Blackberry - goes like this.

Aged 6, I was cleaning my pony and making it all pretty and clean - as I went for the tail, I put some shampoo on it and rubbed in it. All very nice and fluffy and then suddenly, as I put the water on the tail, Blackberry double barrelled (clicked with both legs) at my stomach and threw me across the compound. Much to my mothers disagreement, she reminded me that there was some shampoo still on the tail and to carry on!!

True love is tough love I guess.

Thunder is a huge, fast, confident about everything but hacking and being caught, grey horse. He has four legs, a head, some fluffy mane, a tail and a huge crack in his hoof - that doesn't seem to cause him harm or recover.

He has a bum made just for jumping big. scary hedges and he has a neck that is brilliant for hugging.

A bit of history before I tell you how he came about:
I've had a few annoying ponies & horses in my time, a few that are dreams and others that are demons.

One, Heidi - a 14.2 arab X mare, used to rear every time we went up to a jump - how ever fast. I couldn't jump anything and after a few months I lost my confidence. No amount of kicking would change her attitude and it eventually scared the living daylights out of me.

Another was Sweep - a 13.2 Welsh Section C Gelding - bought for my sister who ended up hating all types of riding. Once Heidi had found a new home, I had the luxury of riding him and bloody hell, he can jump. Numerous days out hunting were spent flying over anything and everything and he was a dream. His fear of patting and stroking his face was very apparent - he was scared for anything, including his bridle being put on. But through time and patience, I managed to conquer it and he was finally over it - this time, as lame as it is, increased our 'bond' and made me love him more.

So when I had to move on it was very scary - horrid in fact. Was I going to get another Heidi? Or another demon of a horse. We tried out, or rather I tried out and my parents watched, lots of horses and ponies but none were 'the one'.

I tried out my mother's horse - Annie - who was fantastic and just before we were going to start eventing together - she had an injury which put her out of work completely for 6 months. By which I was told that she wouldn't be able to hunt or jump big again so I had to look for another horse.

At the same time, my cousin got Storm - a crazy, unidentifiable 15.3 horse - absolutely freaky and reared up on a ice with me at New Years - still wishing to beat her fears with her - I took her to school but sadly she wasn't what was required and got sold at the sales later that year.

The search was on. More internet sites were scanned and too many magazines were bought. Until one day I came across a big grey, with only one photo on his advert and the owner had only had him for 6 months and was already getting rid of him... ALARM BELLS!

I drove down to Glos - from Yorkshire with my sister to try him out. He was dreamy - as the cliche goes, I fell in love with him the second I saw him. He was incredibly muscly, toned and jumped like a ninja. There was nothing to hate...

I got told by parents that it was a mistake that I had to decide on, whether or not it was worth it and that they'd be there to support... I went with my gut instinct and got him.

About 2 months later, when he had thrown me across the road and nearly dumped me off him more times than I can remember - I decided that he wasn't worth the effort. So I tried to sell him - deciding that this must be the reason why the previous owner didn't like him.

To sell a horse, you need to get a portfolio together, of things that you've done with them and also photos... which involves riding and testing out all of his skills and during this time, I fell back in love with him...

Out hunting for the first time, was scary - he's big and could do anything, as I had previously discovered but actually, as it turns out, he is dreamy and absolutely brilliant at the whole thing. He stands when needed, he jumps everything he's put at and he's got the shoulders of an armchair so I have something to cling on to.

All in all... he seems to have turned out to be a hero.

But, as the title says, the beauty is in the eye of the beholder - my dad isn't the biggest fan of how he looks and I don't think anyone else is either... but to me, he's beautiful, majestic and just what I need.

Yours, jumping hedges..ly...

XX

Dinner At The Hamilton House With A Dashing White Sargent

'Highland dance or Highland dancing is a style of competitive solo dancing developed in the Scottish Highlands in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries in the context of competitions at public events such as the Highland games, where it is often performed to the accompaniment of Highland bagpipe music.'  

Some of the best hours of my life have been sent Scottish Dancing and long may it continue. 

From dressing up and having a good supper and then sweating the night away; you enter the world of Scottish Dancing and by the grand young age of 45, I imagine you know most of the world. 

And how the world is small. 

When my parents introduced me to this incredible world, I hated it. They knew everyone, the other children didn't want to be there anymore than I did and to be honest, holding hands with a boy was the worst thing that could happen. Or even talking to boys - when would that ever be fun?

Annoyingly, as proving my parents right, as time has gone on, I have fallen more and more in love with reeling. The culture, the people, the music, the ability to do whatever you feel, the structure to it and most of all the tours of the country!!

Holidays to Skye to dance till 6am and to Oban are just some of the summer benefits of the whole experience! 

Since being at the Royal Ag University (né College), I have started up the Caledonian Society with a friend, Theo. It runs every Thursday evening and becoming more and more popular. 

Maybe it was something to do with the 'fantastic', 'best ball of the year', we had last year. 80 people came and we made a seriously impressive profit. Only increasing my passion for events and party management. 

The title of this post is in reference to the dance names: Hamilton House, Dashing White Sargent, Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh, Duke of Perth, Reel of the 51st Division (Traditional and Aberdonion), Eightsome, Foursome (cheeky!), Inverness Country Dance and Mairi's Wedding, to mention the popular ones. 

If you ever get the chance to try it - my one request is that you give it a go. You may hate it, you may love it, but if you don't try it you won't know. And my gosh, its a good laugh!

The aspect of it that I love is that everyone ends up coming out of their shell and being themselves as it becomes the only way you can survive. Each person is their true self and the enthusiasm plus adrenaline increases their personalities; it is fantastic. 

My take home message is... Do it. Go Scottish Reeling. It is one of my favourite things to do and one of the best ways to socialise! 

You Were Attractive Until You Messaged Me Your Awful Grammar...

Apologies to all... Sincere apologies...

My grammar and ability to even write a coherent sentence is leaving a lot to be desired and for this I apologise...

Also, I have recently acquire a bit of OCD... for three dots. I cannot deal with 2, or 4. One, obviously, is a full stop; two screams 'I am unsure if I want to dot dot this but I'll dip my finger in the pot and see' and four is like 'mate... stop having an affair with the 'dot' button. But three is a happy medium.

Anymore than 4 is repulsive.

Yours dottingly,

XX

Anything Goes In The Name Of Charity

Now then...I can finally sit down after a crazy fresher's fortnight back at Ciren...

LWEYP... the reason why I put myself through sweat and chaffing for a full 45 miles... 

The Lower Wharfe Ecumenical Youth Project is a charity where LOVE is the one theme and the one rule is to love everyone. As corny and as frustratingly cheesy it is, its a lot easier to smile and be happy... than to waste energy on negativity.

My mother has a heart for others, she has a passion for children and young adults and adults, she has a passion for the broken and a serious dedication for those who need a shoulder. She is a rock for many. 

Many moons and visions ago; she decided to set up a youth project that is basically a huge comfortable and warm arm chair to people. Everyone is wanted, everyone is accepted, everyone is needed, everyone is vital. Her main vision of the whole project is that people, in this negative, technology driven world, feel that they matter and make a difference. 

Maybe a bit like Sainsbury's.. although its 'feel' as opposed to 'taste'...

The day to day work is run by youth workers. The youth workers run different clubs at schools around Tadcaster and have different Christian groups for those interested. There are camps during the summer and a live nativity at Christmas time... 

During my second ('cause I'm lazy and hate decision making) gap year - I spent a year working for the project. This involved, to name a few jobs; maning the emails, planning a weekend away, being accountable to the girls at the Monday club - CUBE - but also having eyes at the back of my head to look out for people who lacked in love. Lacked in motivation and hugs. I doubt I could have had a more rewarding time. 

A smile means a lot. Even if you know the person is already loved and happy... a smile can still change their day. 

I have no idea what it is about the whole showing teeth thing... or maybe when you make your mouth into the shape of a half-moon, maybe we're vampires... 

The long and short of it... Long being the bike ride, and short being the time it takes to smile (VOM!), this charity couldn't be more positive and exciting. 

Every week I get different stories, all motivating and inspiring. 

So... cheers big dog, Jesus, for making such a cool project work wonders... 

Yours, enthusiastically... 

X

What The Future Holds

The end of the placement time has finished, the report has been handed in and I am exhausted.

I am ecstatic about going back to uni, mainly because I can torture more Freshers but similarly 'cause its time to see my buddies again and reel my socks off every week...

I am unable to contain my excitement and adrenaline rush for this year.

But first I must bike 45 miles for charity - for the Lower Wharfe Ecumenical Youth Project in fact.

The following post will explain LWEYP...

Yours,

X

You Speak Good English For A French Girl...

The first few days were filled with tackling bus services, my birthday and eating a lot more baguette than I think my body liked.

That and a lot of chocolate and coffee drinking.

Each shift had the same amount of French speaking, English translation and general confusion as the first day but with more finding out that I spoke both English and French - I was suddenly a BNOC (Big Name On Campus). I explained where the loos were and why there wasn't the possibility to stay in your seats in the gap between the morning and afternoon shows about 100 times one day.

Popularity in that form is the best...

During this time of huge popularity, I discovered that there were a lot of Swedish volunteers and one whom had worked with William Fox Pitt and was Tamarillo's groom. She was my best friend, or I liked to think of my interviewing as 'friends'.

The shifts followed the same suit, confusion about what to do and when to eat, then eating soggy french food and then enjoying some humour with the crowds who were all have THE best time... plus maybe seeing some super stars in the ring, like Charlotte Dujardin and Carl Hester; life was good.

My birthday was spent wandering around a parade, where representatives from lots of the countries participating in the Games, walked around behind a band and everyone cheered. It was particularly fun to see all the outfits that they wore and also the English looked fantastic with their noble black steeds... mmm

For my birthday supper... I had burnt steak... it was definitely up there with one of my better days in life... at least I wasn't eating McDonalds and I had a raw carrot which resulted in my stomach LOVING me.

All in all, the days were very french and excellently fun.

The title to the post was the compliment I remember the best, from a rather enthusiastic British man coming into the stadium who overheard me speaking to a French person and then an English and decided it would be right to let me know that I speak good English. I told him I was English and he said... 'well I'm glad one of us is nailing at life'.

He was ace.

Although my complimentary describing words are few and far between.. the WEG were rather eye opening and fun...

The rest of the shifts contained the same amount of excitement.

The atmosphere was brilliant, the organisation was terrible and the need for a bath and a baileys was becoming more persistent.

My feet hurt by the end and I was pining after my horse. Also, who likes cooking for themselves...

Home couldn't have been more enticing and the idea of a soft, comfy bed and an aga in the kitchen made me go all gooey inside... like if someone would tell you that you're the most beautiful girl in the world - I imagine...

My genuine smile was still there, the novelty of speaking French was still there and my passion for people was most definitely still there but without having Mr William Fox Pitt on campus or even in the same country as me any more... something was missing!!!

I was gifted with a mug and a certificate and off I galloped to England.

Yours well bathed now..

X

First Shift At Work Sandwich

Enthusiastically, I awoke hoping for a French man donning a beret and baguette to be by my bed... The reality was the sun streaming into my eyes and the sounds of French builders banging away. You win some, you loose some I guess. 

Grabbing some excellently strong coffee, some baguette and my super sexy uniform, I went to tackle the Caen bus service. 

Turns out that there are infact many benefits to dressed like a bogey... The best being free transport! 

My first shift was full of trying to listen and comprehend all I thought I'd missed out on in the training days I hadn't been to... But having conversed with others, we were all in the same position, rather confused and just riding the wave of the Jeux Equestre Mondiaux, Normandie. 

I was put on 'ushering' with a Swedish lady who spoke no French and conveniently for all, I had decided to watch the tv in the 'Centre Des Benevolves' rather than listen to instructions. This was a recipe for definite success... 

Much to everyone's surpise we managed to get though the first 6 hours without too many blunders... Regular phrases were 'il faut que vous prennez les escaliers encore une fois... Votre billet est pour le prochain étage' and 'vous étés la, les chaises sont complètement libres. Amusez-vous bien.' (you need to go up another flight of stairs as your ticket is for the next floor' or 'you are here! the seats are completely free. have fun!'... And managed to watch some people riding horses around an arena all in the name of 'dressage'...whatever that is...

The only real culture shock for myself was the French Cuisine. Of course, I've been to restaurants and am, in fact, rather partial to a good ol' 'Croque Monsieur' but the soggy beans, rather over boiled chicken and potatoes reminded me what the food was like at school in France... Something that left anything, everything, to be desired. Although, the cheese was great as was the bread... And they didn't manage to make a mess up on the can of coke. So there's a silver lining...

Yours rather hungrily,

X

The Webcam Photo

Arriving at my destination for retrieving my uniform and other interesting things that the organising team thought would be useful, like a volunteers hand book completely in French and a bus pass - soon to become my best friend; I was directed to the table labelled 'accreditations'... it was time to smile big and get the photo that everyone for the rest of my life will judge me on...

Smiling at the lady, who seemed even more confused than me on the whole subject, she said 'photo' and shoved a webcam in my face... after what I thought was quite a nice smile, she made a grimace at the computer screen and said, 'let's try again' in her best english. Is there a worse insult? a) she replies to my french with english and then proceeds to basically indicate that I can't smile... I tried again.. this time it resulted in a rather weirder looking face I'm sure... like one they use for the 'before' rather than the 'after' of a face product; but the lady thought this was better... and it was printed out and was labelled as my ID.

Yay..

Next task was the uniform, a super super sexy neon green colour - literally my best colour. The positive side being that everyone was in it, even those who were normally goddesses or models all looked rank in this colour so I guess it was manageable. I got a cap, a jacket, two polo shirts and a bag, it was compulsory to wear all of these (managed to not have to wear the cap though... and obvs only 1 polo shirt for those pedantic ones..) when 'on duty'.

After being rather negatively effected by the colour of uniform and the webcam photo - I decided that retail therapy was the only way to get over it... so went to buy myself something yummy...

As usual, didn't buy any clothes... but I did buy a delicious cake.

Yours 'sponge'ly... X

Parlez-vous Anglais?

Time to head off to the La France, with absolutely no idea where I am meant to be at what time and where I am currently living...

Heading onto the ferry, I had no idea how to get into the flat I had managed to rent - rather useful connection with a former french exchange - as I spent 6 hours watching the How I Met Your Mother box set from the beginning, I began my rather exciting and spontaneous adventure.

To set the scene, when I was in France for my 'gap year' between GCSEs and A Levels, I went to a school in Lisieux, France - about 50km from Caen, my home town for the next few weeks - and as a task at school, we spent the evening hanging out at this random football arena with the highlight being running around the pitch with a huge 'oui a Caen 2014' of which I had no clue what to do - just seemed fun to have a day out of school.
From the mere age of 15, I was involved with the convincing and the happening of the World Equestrian Games 'the world's biggest event'.

So when I was told I needed to organise a placement and had seen adverts for the World Equestrian Games, I thought why not, its in Normandy, speaking french and helps towards my degree... not realising how much fun it would be or that I had already been involved with it.

Having applied by application form online, had a phone interview and been to a test event, you would've thought that I would know what I was about to embark upon, but no; the French like to keep you on your toes just to the end of your tether.

As I desperately called the person who was meant to be giving me the keys, as I got off the ferry - I was greeted with my first hurdle...  speaking French on the phone. About that, I hate speaking French on the phone, I prefer being able to see the facial expressions and how they are reacting to what I am saying... but by the end of the evening, I was in a comfy sofa bed, with directions as to where I needed to go the next day to get my uniform and where I'd need to get the bus from to get to the stadium... turns out my French wasn't as rusty as I had thought.

Yours 'frog'ly... X

Placement Trois

And just as I start to I believe it couldn't get any more fun...

It is time for the World Equestrian Games, in Normandy, France.

Placement no. 2

After spending two weeks sleeping and then sailing with uni friends, as a well earned break, it is now time for 3 weeks of craziness.

Red House Riding Holidays 2014 - let the madness commence.

Helpers all together 

The kids all arrive on the Sunday lunch time, all with about 3 hours sleep, more sweets than clothes for the week and maybe even a new pony. Everyone has lots of catching up to do, or if you're a nervous newbie, you sit awkwardly hoping that someone who isn't the matron will talk to you.
Sunday is spent trotting around in a circle, whilst the instructors decide which group you're in and if you're on a Red House pony, whether you get on with it or not.

Monday is spent falling in love with the horse, and maybe the floor if your balance hasn't been tested much. Tuesday is much the same. Wednesday is then the relax day but also the big competition day, morning is spent learning the musical ride (dressage to music), hacking out and then after lunch is spent plaiting up and lots of fun to be had with water. Wednesday night, its the show jumping competition, a time to get your first rosette, or your first prize money (if you're fast enough to get first). Thursday is the scariest - cross country and remembering dressage test before the big day. Friday - the big competition day, early wake up to get messy and plait up, then tack and turn out show, then dressage, show jumping and cross country show. The afternoon is the best though - chase me charlie (where the jump goes up and up and if you knock it/ refuse you're out), the musical ride and gymkhana games... apple bobbing and then polo in the flour; its brilliant.

Every day has its own evening activity too, every day is full of fun and full of laughter and making new friends.

It is mandatory that you are loud, courageous and can cheer on your peers at all times though; but fear not, you're not that when you start, Red House will teach you how to be.

I have been spending my summers there for the last 14 years, riding from 7-17 and then invited back (no idea, and my best times riding have either been hunting or at Red House. It is the probably the most fun and crazy week, you will ever encounter.

If you're between 8-16 and love horses, go. All I can say is GOOOOOO!!

Wednesday action! 

And for me, the first week I was matron, second I was helping with the horses and third week I was matron again! Every week has different kids and each week has different highlights!!

These weeks keep me young and very well fed!

Yours enthusiastically,

X

If At First You Don't Succeed, Try Try Try Again

Sunday was the day when the phrase 'If at first you don't succeed, try try try again' came very much into its own. 

All those who would have come on the Saturday had the weather gods refrained from unleashing the years quantity of water on us, came on the Sunday. 

Sunday was covered in sunshine, no sign of rain, and lots of results to be decided. 

With all the jumping close to the Organsier's Office where I was based, suited up with coffee, bacon butties and a great view - I was set to be the more cheerful, exhausted member there!

From all the work that had happened throughout the months leading up to the event, nothing could predict the excitement that I experienced those few days. From being helping count out things, to answering the telephones, to being entrusted with doing announcements, to prize giving collection... to meeting my hero - Mr Bramham himself, William Fox Pitt. 

It was all fantastic, a frustrating cliché but it was fantastic. 

Thank you Jane, Laura and Nick for giving me the time of my life!

Yours contently, 

X

2008 and 2014 

Red Trousers, Jacket and Beer In Hand

As previously mentioned, eventing is for everyone. You get the families, the farmers, the teenagers, the dedicated riding fans (sometimes with flags on their faces), the newbie riders (normally found in jodphurs), the grandparents - fancying a good day out, and those who have seen the sunshine and have decided to make a day out of something jumping something, oh and the shoppers.

Saturday, after two days of quite a bit of sunshine with a few spells of rain on the Dressage, was threatening storms - this isn't attractive to the less dedicated to the equestrian sport. Prayers were sent up and everything was crossed...

But Saturday came and so did the rain, it didn't storm but it did rain. It rained from the beginning of the Cross Country to just about the end. The fans were still there, screaming and cheering as per, more members badges were bought, lots of animal shaped umbrellas were revealed and dogs who had warmer looking coats than their owners... but as always.. the atmosphere remained.

As the quantity of rain and the effect of the rain grew, so did the smiles, so did the laughter and so did the happiness and atmosphere. The equestrian sport is not for the wimpy or for those who hate the mud.

More mud = more smiles. Not forgetting all the comments about how mad we all are.

All the Cross Country went ahead, all of the fun was had and most of the show jumping went ahead.

The Saturday of Bramham was yet again a huge success and definitely a day where mud managed to get even where one didn't realise mud could or would go!!

Yours mud bathingly,

X

More Dogs or More Humans? Your Guess Is As Good As Mine

Eventing presents the ultimate challenge of horsemanship as it requires horse and rider to perform three totally different disciplines within the same competition: dressage, cross country and show jumping. To conquer one or even two is not enough to win, so as the competition develops, so does the pressure. It takes at least four years of training to prepare a horse for an event of Bramham’s level, and the difference between success and failure can be a simple matter of dropping a pole or not having the perfect circle in the dressage test. (Extract from the Bramham Park, 3 day event page, http://bramham-horse.co.uk/bramham-2014/three-day-event/eventing-explained/) 

Thursday consists of Dressage - prancing around to a test created by people of a higher realm.

Friday consists of more Dressage.

Saturday consists of Cross Country - the most exciting and popular day for spectating, is your favourite horse and rider combination going to make it around the course, or is the water jumper just too taxing this time? 
Showjumping, for the CIC*** competition (a shorter course, and a shorter time allowed but all happens on the same day so a different type of endurance during the competition), happens before the Cross Country - so the Cross Country turns out to be the decider of who ends on which side of the podium. 

Sunday consists of Showjumping for any combination in the CCI***.  
Showjumping - jumping a course of jumps at a certain height, with lots of scary things, or plants or spreads to try and catch the combination out. A straight line up to the jump and a secure pole in the cups is vital for anyone. Normally the combinations jump in reverse order, thus making the Top 10, great fun to watch and rather nail biting for the top 5. Anything can change the last result, you can be lying at 1st and end up 7th due to a knocked pole or a time fault. 

Every day brings different types of spectators, dressage tends to attract those who are interested in the movement of horses, the way that the rider is able to get the horse to go and the general atmosphere of the event. Cross Country attracts the whole family, the mum likes to go shopping, the children like to see the different horses jumping big and the men enjoy the amount of beer that is involved in spectating the water jump and the dogs enjoy the walking and making new canine buddies. 

Saturday is seen as the socialising day, teenagers meet up at a place where parents allow but can disappear from their sight, Pony Club come to support their team during the games; farmers old and new arrive with different styles of Land Rover or pick up truck, looking out for a new bit of equipment or a horse themed gift for the Mrs. 

The Showjumping brings the dedicated fans, those that will be biting their nails as each jump is jumped but similarly it attracts those who are on the look out for an 'end of the event' sale. 

One thing to say for sure, is that there is a hard job counting the ratio between dogs and humans throughout the whole event. Everyone is welcome, and everyone comes!

Singing In The Rain

Blissful sunshine, what resembles organised chaos and thousands of people meant to be arriving to the Bramham Estate within hours... something has to go wrong...

And it did. It rained. Yorkshire was holding a hopeful mask over our eyes, could Bramham 2014 actually be full of sunshine... maybe, potentially, yes, no?

For a true Brit, it was heaven, we could actually chat about the weather with some sort of purpose or urgency, with some sort of actual debate... heaven was upon us...

Wednesday 4th June, it rained, it rained like it was a monsoon and had never rained before. To put it in a cliché, it rained on our parade but the smiles remained, as the saying goes 'the show must go on' and of course, it did. More gadgets were brought onto site, the trade stands arrived, the horses made an appearance and the first trot up was under way... 

A trot-up, for anyone that doesn't know, is when each rider trots their horse in front of a panel of judges to check that it is sound, healthy and in a fit state to partake in the competition. At Bramham, there is the advantage of having the trot - up right in front of the perfectly beautiful, unusual house. 

Mr Bramham (William Fox-Pitt) and Freddie Mac

If you pass the trot up, then the grooms have the great joy of plaiting up and you've gotta scrub up and learn that Dressage test quick!!

By the close of play on Wednesday we were all ready, ready for the next four days and anything that it could throw at us... 

Yours organisingly, 

Time

Apologies are sent your way for the delayed and therefore almost overdosing of blogging that has happened over the few days...

The Summer months have run away with me and due to a lack of any time to get to a computer, I have had a to store my reflections in my head and ponder on them...

I am now revealing and unleashing them to you...

I have, as you can see by the following the back dated posts, completed my first placement - the Equi-Trek Bramham International Horse Trials 2014.

Also have I completed my three weeks at Red House Riding Holidays, more details to follow.

And I am soon to embark on my first shift at the Jeux Equestres Mondiaux (World Equestrian Games), Normandy, 2014.

X

Counting Sheep Didn't Even Work...

IT IS THE WEEK BEFORE...

More people coming onto site, more people frantically panicking about the lack of something, more water bottles and high vis counted, more hairy moments when something isn't right and more shrieks of laughter heard as things come together... it must be near time for Equi-Trek's Bramham International Horse Trials...

More trucks, arriving with more delicious items that are essential to making this 3* horse trials happen... 

Spreadsheet b*tch

From the 28th May 2014, being a spreadsheet b*tch paid off.

The first signs of an event were up. The rope along the drive, the straight lined, well mown grass, the outlined cross country course. it suddenly became apparent that an event was happening. The days that had been spent infront of a computer screen and sending out tickets were finally paying off. 

As the marquees came up, my life became more frantic. Of course, my life couldn't be as frantic as that of Jane and Laura; the poor souls that have to deal with my inquistive questions, my printing mistakes and making embarrassing blunders, an example being telling people the wrong things on the telephones. How we have survived, is beyond me! It is fascinating being part of the group, part of the home team. 

Watching the days go by with more and more tasks ticked off and the days getting longer in order to make the final finishing touches was incredible. Everything, even the amount of water bottles has been counted, and everything must be signed off. 

Everything is considered, everyone is appreciated and made to feel welcome. People flit in with different banners, which would hack their company if Bramham forgot to put them up; the sponsors get their own special drinks parties, everyone is made to feel special and significant and all the way through. There seems to be nothing forgotten.

More people are phoning up asking if they can bring dogs, or if they can bring two cars to camping... the answer is always no - one camping pitch = one car pass; but this is causing more upset than anything!! Obviously cars and flexibility matter more than the event itself!

The weather was impeccable, it was delightful and sunny...

The adrenaline was rushing and everyone was getting excited about the four days we'd all been working towards!

I daren't drive over the neat, lush grass,
so this was the closet I could get to begin with! 

The beginnings

Each day, at Bramham Park, is full of different spreadsheets, different people and different requirements.

For me, not knowing what each day held was a weird and slightly daunting experience. I've always liked to plan and have a sense of direction for my day, even if that be eating the last bagel, or getting to uni in less than 7 minutes...!

Arriving at work I would be required to check emails and answer any telephone calls, I bet at the beginning, this would be so frustrating as all I could say would be 'I'll just check for you, give me a second' I am now an encyclopaedia of all things Bramham Horse Trials (don't quote me on that!).

Filing entries for Youngstock and Hunter classes was my first continuous job. The hunter and young stock classes run on the Thursday and Friday alongside the dressage for the main CCI*** and CIC*** and Under 25s CCI*** events. The hunter entries required a
registration number and other details, some entries needed chasing up and the young stock entries, some foals didn't have names. You don't realise how much people consider their horses to be their gods until you tell them they require a registration number and that it is obligatory. Literally, don't step between a competition and their entry, if you can avoid it. Obviously others can be absolute dreams to work with.

Bramham Horse Trials, as a three day event, requires a cross country course. As Mr Lane Fox, the owner of the estate, doesn't like to see the cross country fences during the rest of the year, they are all stored away from sight, apart from a few. The lucky ditch and hedge (see photos) and the water jumps, are the few that are allowed to remain.

For the first few months, things didn't really take much shape, it was a lot of package making for the campers and a lot of different calls to deal with but as most time went buy, the laminator became my best friend ever, its beautiful (see photo).

Bramham Horse Trials decided to use e-Tickets this year. An e-Ticket requires you to scan a bar code as you form of entry. My humble opinion is that these things are awesome, less paper wasted and a lot less stamps required to send out paper tickets. People complained that there wasn't the 'stub' of the ticket that they could keep as a souvenir, but others said they were a great change and a lot easier. It meant that you had your ticket as soon as you bought it and there wasn't the risk of them getting lost in the post.


Yours laminatingly,

X

The comings about of Placement Uno

A cliché to start us off! A dream has always been to run an event, be that equine related or another area. I can't put my finger on the exact passion but there is something about that really gets my adrenaline rushing. The fact that you spend all of the time working towards one event, that lasts maybe 2 or 3 days, but takes up to a year to organise, is fascinating.

As I have previously stated, part of second year has to be done on placement. This is a module in itself totalling up to 30 credits, I believe. The time came around to think about placements and to be perfectly honest, I didn't do anything. I wrote my CV and didn't really think any more about it, until everyone else had got their placements under their belts; and typically they were all incredible.

A day came around at the end of February, when I had completed different things, like coursework, getting the Caledonian Society (my little baby and a huge success I might add) ball out of the way and revision was in full swing... or procrastination was definitely underway, rather! As a form of procrastination, I decided to write my cover letter, this, of course, took nearly a whole day and near the end of the day I sent some emails out to all the horse trials teams in England, not expecting any reply. By about 5pm, I had bagged myself an interview and the placement would be determined on the success of my interview.

I had applied to Badminton, Burghley, Blenheim, Blair and Bramham. I had two replies, one telling me that I had sent the wrong email to them and the second from Bramham asking if I was going home at any point and would I be available for an interview. Bramham happens to be less than 15 miles away from my home so an easy access point.

Although not much revision happened that day, I had in fact done one thing well. April to June 2014 would be spent at, and preparing for the Equi-Trek Bramham International Horse Trials.

Placement 1, check.

Backlog of letters

The last few weeks have been incredibly busy, from partying to organising a horse trials (finally). The  time off I've had has either been riding my horse or catching up on sleep. Blimey, I am exhausted. 

Seeing as the last few weeks of posts haven't happened, my plan is to do a post every few days and go through what I would, ideally, have posted, had I been on time, organised and running on recharged batteries. So please excuse the past tense that may be used to describe situations/happenings, but I will endeavour to recreate the best 4 days of my life so far... or maybe close to them..

All I can say as an update now is that I am exhausted, thoroughly enjoying life and have been counting quite a few 'officials' vests... who knew that my maths lessons would actually come in so handy for my placement.. 

Parties have been plenty and the life behind the scenes has been incredible. I would imagine I am the same type of tiredness that you get from having a baby, exhausted by what has been but similarly excited about what is the come (obvs my placement doesn't scream and poo... it has been known to wake me up in the night though!)

Enjoy mes amis...

Once again, I apologise for the lack of exciting info in this post, but it acts as a similar role as that of a napkin when having a burger... a kind gesture that could potentially be useful! 

X 

The Reason Behind the Madness

This post is the boring description bit that everyone misses out when reading a novel, everyone, that is except your English teacher who requests a 3thousand word essay on the relevance of the world 'majestic' in the sentence, 'To the left of the mantle piece a rather majestic set of antlers could be located'.

So onto the madness; the madness, referring here to the blog, is due to the fact that I am currently studying at the Royal Agricultural University (né Royal Ag College, former and considerably better name). Having finished my academic side of my 2nd year, it is required that I spent some time working in the real world; which I may take this opportunity to add, is a very big yet rather small world. 

Whilst studying Equine Management (Business), I have continued maintained my passion for event organising and management with setting up the Caledonian Society and hosting their first ball (of many I'd like to predict) and assisting with running the VWH Hunter Trials just to mention a few of the rather more 'professional' versions of simply telling my siblings what to do, where and when, in plays we put on to our parents. 

I have decided to put all my memoirs into a blog so as a) to store them in somewhere other than my rather fish-like brain memory, and to a data base which, even if the database on my computer is rather violently taken from my hands (I imagine a rather sneaky man, dressed in army combat (like a man in uniform) who woos me but takes my goods rather than my heart...) anyways, back to the main body of this ramble - I am blogging in order to remember the experiences, as generic as that does sound. 

As a prediction of my next few months - I am working at Equi-Trek International Bramham Horse Trials, Red House Riding Holidays and the World Equestrian Games for my placement. 

My aim to is blog most weeks - this will, of course, include my crazy social life... My main aim is to recount my time as a 'working student (rather huge contradiction) with as much gusto that can escape from a sleep deprived earl grey addict... 

Yours, X