- Untitled
- The season begins
- Jan 2010
- Feb 2010
- March 2010
- April 2010
- May 2010
- Ski Pictures 2010
- June 2010
- July 2010
- August 2010
- September 2010
- October 2010
- Late October
- November
- December 2010
- January 2011
- February
- The European Youth Olympic Festival
- March 2011
- The season ends
- May and June 2011
- End of June
- July
- August in Yorkshire
- September 2011
- 28 October 2011
- November/December 2011
- Season 2012
- February 2012
- March and April
- June
- 'Summer' 2012
Time to write
Just thought of another oxymoron: writing about one’s about our hectic, chaotic life. I wrote ‘Why the Chinese Don’t Count Calories at a Billingham ice rink between 9.30 p.m and midnight, fuelled by a jar of green tea. Billingham is the only town I have ever been to where you can’t even buy a cup of coffee and I certainly wouldn’t venture into one of the pubs after dark. Most of the other parents were local so dropped their kids off and went home to do the ironing in front of the TV, or to someone else’s home to do something else which resulted in some of the most as the complicated family relationships I’ve ever witnessed. In the early days, still fresh from China and mesmerised by western consumerism, I pushed a trolley round Tesco. You get great bargains in Billingham late at night as there is obviously no market for Parmesan cheese or Tofu in that part of the world so they sell it of for 10 p a pack. But that particular diversion came to an abrupt halt when I realised that the local bag lady had recognised a kindred spirit and kept waylaying me in the aisle, so I started to take my laptop and got quite good at typing in fingerless gloves.
By the time Christian started playing for Whitely Bay I was published which was a good thing as by that stage I was so exhausted by the 10 to 11.30 p.m sessions (and I was just watching!) that I would just curl up and sleep in the car till he emerged. Fortunately he passed his driving test that year and the eight year ice hockey mum era came to an end.
Only to be replaced by the comparatively luxurious surroundings of Spennymoor Leisure centre (where I am sitting writing this). Honi’s primary school selected her for a gifted and talented day of sporting activities which turned out to be skipping, trampolining and golf! I might have questioned this had I not just heard of a friend’s daughter who had been rewarded for academic prowess by classes in sugarcraft. Anyway she did well at the trampolining bit which led to classes at Spennymoor which happened to run at the same time as a gymnastics class and I could only ignore her looks of longing for so long.
Taking one’s kids to sports and clubs is a massive timewaster but there is something quite nice about the enforced downtime. This evening I have made a couple of non-essential phone calls, read The Week and blogged about not much. It’s an ‘extra’ three hour long practice. I could have driven home (forty minutes), cooked for the rest of the family, then driven back (another forty minutes), only to drive home again (another forty minutes) to do the washing up for a meal that I hadn’t eaten. I washed up after a meal that I hadn’t eaten on Tuesday (also gym) and Wednesday (ski-ing on plastic); tonight they can sort themselves, I’m saving the environment. In fact I might earn myself a tumble drier.
So what did happen in September?
(You can tell this is a three hour session).
The menagerie decreased from four and half horses to two and half. The half is Charlie the miniature Shetland who has learnt to get under the electric fence so become even higher maintenance. He was already high because he has sweet itch which involves special rugs, which our new addition, Sooty, keeps taking off with his teeth, and lotions and baths. I sold Charlie the second, the 12.2 with no brakes, at a massive loss (my husband doesn’t read this blog), to a small riding school where I hope he will learn to chill. And our other 12.2 the beautiful Bronze who has been with us for five years, and morphed from a nappy five year old to rosette machine has gone to a lovely loan home where he can win loads more competition with another little girl.
That leaves us with Millie who was originally bought to succeed Bronze but was intermittently lame so demoted to Mum’s (rather lively) hack in the short term and Sooty, who has a way of going that doesn’t suit everyone, but Honi loves to bits. After a year of touting Millie round to ever specialist in the book and lots that weren’t we have found out that her legs are different lengths! Careful management should keep her sound but she may not be able to compete big time. So while Honi is competing over 90 cm tracks I have progressed to a two foot pole.
Fed up with the time he was left housebound and slightly limited by his broken arm, Sam volunteered to hack out with me. His opinion of Sooty’s way of going concurred with the majority and he is too heavy for Millie with her leg issues so I’m indulging in the Horse for Sale ads one more time.
Pointe shoes, and an extra half hour on the dance class, were also new for September. I tried my best to be a good ballet mother, which doesn’t come naturally, and went to York (in the horse box even as Christian and Tim had the cars) to get them fitted and I made sure I got the correct ribbon. But I didn’t get the suede pads for the toe tips and I sewed the ribbon on wrong - and I let on that Honi had practiced at home so we didn’t get off to a great ballet start.
The final new addition to the timetable was the school ski team. Racing on plastic is something we have never aspired to, being so fortunate as to have unlimited access to the snow in season. But being part of a team is always fun and Honi equipped herself sufficiently adequately for her team to qualify for the National finals. Hence the weekly trips to Sunderland to get used what is a very different discipline and put the less experienced team members through a crash course. Wednesday was race night and, as an unknown quantity on the plastic scene Honi was introduced as a new starter. That was fine until they tried to get her to take a ‘guide’ through the course. After politely telling them that she thought she would be ‘okay’ she had to get gradually firmer, until through gritted teeth she insisted: I do NOT need a guide. An adult might have added an expletive for emphasis but they got the idea once she left the gate.
Talking of ski-ing, what did I say about October camp? When will I have the courage of my convictions? She leaves on the October 16th? I am a bit of a pushover though, to be honest, if you had seen the volume of rain that fell today you might agree that you could not run in it.
By the time Christian started playing for Whitely Bay I was published which was a good thing as by that stage I was so exhausted by the 10 to 11.30 p.m sessions (and I was just watching!) that I would just curl up and sleep in the car till he emerged. Fortunately he passed his driving test that year and the eight year ice hockey mum era came to an end.
Only to be replaced by the comparatively luxurious surroundings of Spennymoor Leisure centre (where I am sitting writing this). Honi’s primary school selected her for a gifted and talented day of sporting activities which turned out to be skipping, trampolining and golf! I might have questioned this had I not just heard of a friend’s daughter who had been rewarded for academic prowess by classes in sugarcraft. Anyway she did well at the trampolining bit which led to classes at Spennymoor which happened to run at the same time as a gymnastics class and I could only ignore her looks of longing for so long.
Taking one’s kids to sports and clubs is a massive timewaster but there is something quite nice about the enforced downtime. This evening I have made a couple of non-essential phone calls, read The Week and blogged about not much. It’s an ‘extra’ three hour long practice. I could have driven home (forty minutes), cooked for the rest of the family, then driven back (another forty minutes), only to drive home again (another forty minutes) to do the washing up for a meal that I hadn’t eaten. I washed up after a meal that I hadn’t eaten on Tuesday (also gym) and Wednesday (ski-ing on plastic); tonight they can sort themselves, I’m saving the environment. In fact I might earn myself a tumble drier.
So what did happen in September?
(You can tell this is a three hour session).
The menagerie decreased from four and half horses to two and half. The half is Charlie the miniature Shetland who has learnt to get under the electric fence so become even higher maintenance. He was already high because he has sweet itch which involves special rugs, which our new addition, Sooty, keeps taking off with his teeth, and lotions and baths. I sold Charlie the second, the 12.2 with no brakes, at a massive loss (my husband doesn’t read this blog), to a small riding school where I hope he will learn to chill. And our other 12.2 the beautiful Bronze who has been with us for five years, and morphed from a nappy five year old to rosette machine has gone to a lovely loan home where he can win loads more competition with another little girl.
That leaves us with Millie who was originally bought to succeed Bronze but was intermittently lame so demoted to Mum’s (rather lively) hack in the short term and Sooty, who has a way of going that doesn’t suit everyone, but Honi loves to bits. After a year of touting Millie round to ever specialist in the book and lots that weren’t we have found out that her legs are different lengths! Careful management should keep her sound but she may not be able to compete big time. So while Honi is competing over 90 cm tracks I have progressed to a two foot pole.
Fed up with the time he was left housebound and slightly limited by his broken arm, Sam volunteered to hack out with me. His opinion of Sooty’s way of going concurred with the majority and he is too heavy for Millie with her leg issues so I’m indulging in the Horse for Sale ads one more time.
Pointe shoes, and an extra half hour on the dance class, were also new for September. I tried my best to be a good ballet mother, which doesn’t come naturally, and went to York (in the horse box even as Christian and Tim had the cars) to get them fitted and I made sure I got the correct ribbon. But I didn’t get the suede pads for the toe tips and I sewed the ribbon on wrong - and I let on that Honi had practiced at home so we didn’t get off to a great ballet start.
The final new addition to the timetable was the school ski team. Racing on plastic is something we have never aspired to, being so fortunate as to have unlimited access to the snow in season. But being part of a team is always fun and Honi equipped herself sufficiently adequately for her team to qualify for the National finals. Hence the weekly trips to Sunderland to get used what is a very different discipline and put the less experienced team members through a crash course. Wednesday was race night and, as an unknown quantity on the plastic scene Honi was introduced as a new starter. That was fine until they tried to get her to take a ‘guide’ through the course. After politely telling them that she thought she would be ‘okay’ she had to get gradually firmer, until through gritted teeth she insisted: I do NOT need a guide. An adult might have added an expletive for emphasis but they got the idea once she left the gate.
Talking of ski-ing, what did I say about October camp? When will I have the courage of my convictions? She leaves on the October 16th? I am a bit of a pushover though, to be honest, if you had seen the volume of rain that fell today you might agree that you could not run in it.