We three Kings of orient are
One in a bus and one in a car
One on a scooter beeping his hooter
Following Ringo Starr….
I don’t know. It just somehow fits my slightly idiosyncratic mood.
Perhaps because Home Alone 2 is on the TV.
I’m not listening to it though.
I’ve got my studio headphones on; I’m currently listening to Ray Charles’ ‘Heartbreaker’ on Barnsley Sime’s internet radio station
I am new to what Barnsley Sime does; it ain’t half bad, mum.
I have spent the day doing pony-related things.
I was shut in a car with a very nice lady.
I seem to have accidentally become the new owner of a lovely Dun-coloured pony who was in our section.
I sneaked him in to the back of the car later, when his owner wasn’t looking.
Right now he’s grazing in the garden.
I’m going to have to find somewhere more appropriate to keep him.
Vinnie says ‘hello’.
In that whickery kind of ‘Huhuhuhuh’ way he does.
We seem to have bought a new suite.
And I haven’t bought one of these:
But it was close there for a couple of minutes.
As well as the pony (who is at this moment quietly grazing on my neighbour’s rhododendrons), I almost came home with a puppy.
I know I can’t have one because of my stupid hours and daftly enormous travelling and stupid job but, and this is totally true, a small stray puppy, about 3 months old, was handed in to the Secretary’s tent.
It was gorgeous.
And nearly mine.
But a sense of the common variety came upon me and I left him there.
Though I do wonder if he was claimed by his rightful owners.
I don’t understand why sitting in a car judging a day-full of dressage is tiring, but it flipping is!
So it is only fitting that I make myself a mug of chocolate and vanish in the direction of my lovely bed, for half an hour in the company of David Niven’s first autobiographical work.
And then lots of Zs will fall out of my mouth.