One of the reasons that made me want to give up paid employment before coming here was that I felt I was never at home for long enough to enjoy what I had. In my ideal world there was nothing more fulfilling than to spend all day with my animals. I imagined myself finally stress free, released from the daily constraints of diaries and meetings and deliverables, walking my dog in the field, riding my horses, on my own land where no one could tell me what I could and could not do. Dog walking in England can be hazardous. I remember thinking my days would be eternal and I saw myself making great strides, particularly in my horsemanship. All the things I was sure I could accomplish because I would gain two hours or more in each day by no longer commuting.
Reality soon hit home: there was the twice daily school run, the cattle tour in the morning followed by seasonal farm chores, firewood, firewood and again firewood, followed by making a hot dinner for my fully committed vegetarian kids, who’s school meals were decidedly not vegetarian. By then I was usually so tired from all the unaccustomed physical exercise, I fell into bed blissfully exhausted with little thought for any leisure activities. This state of affairs lasted for quite a number of years during which I reached the point of nearly giving up on my Icelandics because there were always more pressing tasks.
In the end the heavens answered my plea and sent me C. who strong armed me into going riding with her. For a year or two my Icelandics were then allowed to take centre stage in my life and we went exploring on the farm and along all the local tracks, no matter what the weather. For a while we had C.‘s Shire horse in residence who was joined by a Breton mare that arrived one day at a swift gallop unannounced, tired of living in a field on her own. She is still here and I’m sometimes asked “is she the mother of both foals?”. I still fancy adding a Shetland to the mix.
