Life on the farm: The end of the season

Today is the last day of the hunting season. It was pretty much a non-starter for me. Although I so enjoyed going to the meets, and watching the hunt occasionally come through the farm, my riding is not yet up to hunting standard. I went out on the very first day of the season (on my daughter's very well behaved pony) and lasted for about an hour. It was so much fun, but the adrenaline wore me out pretty quickly. And then I tried again last weekend when Coco was home. It was a disaster for me. I lent my horse Shalom to Christopher to ride for the day because she is an excellent hunter (and I am not), and I rode Petra, the most difficult horse at the farm but the only other one fit enough to ride after a long winter. I figured I'd just hang at the back with all the moms leading their kids on ponies. How wrong I was. Petra was in a neurotic mood (not unusual for her) and once we got going, she never stopped galloping. I left Christopher and Coco in the dust and my arms were killing themselves trying to pull Petra up with no success. Finally Christopher caught up to me, and when we had the chance rode off from the pack so he could escort me back to our farm. When I got home it took three bull shots (beef consommé mixed with vodka) to get me to stop shaking. This summer I am going to focus on increasing my confidence in jumping so that by next season I can join Coco and Christopher in all the fun they've had riding around the fields of Oxfordshire.

The hounds, anxiously waiting in their trailer to be let free.

Off they go!

Riding to the meet in the early morning fog.

Some days I'll be sitting in my house writing, and suddenly I'll hear the hounds making a racket in the nearby woods. I throw my boots on, make sure Ginger is inside, and watch the whole hunt come through the farm yard. It's always a welcome break from my day, and watching it never gets old - it's like living in another century.

The huntsman and two joint masters surveying the scene from up on the hill. 

Of course I love all the old school guys who wear very traditional clothes like top hats and wool jodphurs.

The field riding up the hill leading to our cottage. 

The huntsman leads the pack.

This fence is in the field behind our house, and there is another even bigger one right after it. When I showed Coco this picture, she was inspired and jumped it the next time we went out, just to show herself that she could. Her jumping is miles ahead of mine. I wouldn't dream of jumping this.

My favorite subject 

Christopher and Coco heading to the meet.

Young riders. I love the tattersall stocks tucked into the tweed jackets. 

The meet at our farm was fun and games for the whole family.

Leaving the farm through the old entrance.

The last of my smile - sheer terror ensued shortly after.