The Life and Times of Massie Lodge

Friday, its taken all week to get here. Im sitting here on the lounge with my laptop on my lap … Ruby (pictured above in her 2011 Christmas photo) is next to me on the right… Matilda on the left. Pikey is on the other lounge nestled in between 2 pillows and snoring… and Bess is just on the other side of the lounge on her bed… making funny wee squeaking noises. Evan is at his computer updating Gallopers… which is really a fulltime job.

I have spent the better part of a couple of hours updating The Black Cockatoo (which has become enormously popular as a News Blog) – it’s inbox generally has about 20-30 emails and news alerts waiting for me every morning – I guess that just shows just how much news is around about Coal Seam Gas mining.

I do have an update to do on Damien’s blog – A Jockey’s Journey – but I will wait to do that. Instead I indulge myself and take a walk amongst the thousands and thousands of blogs which are on the Blogger network. Wow, some of the blogs are outstanding and make mine look, rather plain (lol).

My very good friend was involved in a car accident the other day – they were turning right into their property and there were one or two cars behind them: one of the cars behind them with some young men in it decided to overtake and ended up clipping the front car which had my friend in it. To cut a long story short - they were allegedly speeding – and ended up totalling their car into an electricity pole with the result of a multiple cost of human life.

How fickle is the thread of human life? One minute your alive and busy living it – and then the next minute, through a bad decision or an indecision - you’re not?

Definitely a life changing event. I know that my friend is closely looking at the aspects that make up her life and re-evaluating the parts that make up her every day.

I know it made me stop and think about my life and if anything made me be cranky at myself for my ongoing procrastination on doing the things - and being with the people - that really matter. To help me along I have made a list of the things that I want to do – and it doesn’t matter if Im no good at it. (lol).

LOL – Sorry guys Im not brave enough yet to show the list to anyone, however, Im sure that at some stage I will.

Its been awhile since I have updated the Equine Residents at Massie Lodge:

One of the little yearling colts, Rocky has come up lame today and we’re now waiting for the Eric to come and look at him. Boys will be boys and young colts do play hard. Herman continues to be cute however both boys are now trying it on a little bit but that’s normal for colts.  They still come up to me when I go into their paddock and want some affection... but if you keep your hand there just a little too long...there could be a nip!

 

My beautiful mare, Epiphany (Pip) continues to love her life down the big back paddock with Mazwell. Every day she goes for a swim in the dam and rolls in the mud – it’s one of the special things that I love to watch. She keeps telling me that she wants to get back into twittering (Diary of a Broodmare) as she has a lot to say. Scary! Her two kids, Harry and Pix live next door and they are both looking a treat. I keep telling Harry not to get too attached to paddock life as he still has a racing career ahead of him… Full sister Pix seems to have gotten over her broken neck and is looking fantastic. She just adores Harry… Funny I see Pip hang over their fence and talk to them and all body language indicates that it's with love ..

The two grey boys, Buck Rogers and Northie are a funny pair. Buck Rogers is a big gentle grey giant and Northie – black – and as cheeky as – continues to try and be “the naughty one” except when it comes to getting a scratch behind the ear.. this is the one thing that he loves and will actually stand quiet while you do it. Buck Rogers’ wound continues to heal nicely with the aid of Flint’s Oil.

The 3 ladies down the back, Southern, Nottie and Daisy have the run of 3 big paddocks with 2 dams that provide swimming pleasure for all 3 of them. Both grey ladies have water marks up their bellies...

Jimmy (aka Private James) continues to spell up North and the question mark still remains if he will ever race again.

Iam looking forward to this weekend – my big brother Neil is up for the weekend and it will be great to share some time, eat some good food and drink some good wine with him. We’re both die-hard movie addicts so Im sure we will be watching some dvds or going to the movies over the weekend. I know that Evan will be busy as Damien is riding on Saturday at Morphettville and at Clare on Sunday – so he will be glued to Sky.  There is the thought of Roast Lamb tonight ... baked dinner.. always a favourite in the Robinson household!

So all is well at Massie Lodge. Ruby has flipped over and is now on her back with her feet up in the air demanding a stomach rub.. and who am I to deny her??

To Read or Not To Read?

I had a very interesting question asked to me the other day by a good friend….and for the life of me I couldn’t answer the question.

Why do I read?

And my first response was, “I don’t know, I just enjoy it”.

The next question that was asked of me was, “Are you into E Books?”  To which I responded without a second thought, “Noooooo!!!!”.

I guess there are many reasons why people sit down with a book .  Some people sit down with self-help in mind, hoping to get the right answers about their life so that they find a direction and don’t make any silly mistakes.  Some people may read books to get inspired or they read books about other people doing things that they wish that they could do. Some people read books to beam themselves off into another universe and far away from reality.

I know that Evan rarely reads – he has a book that he takes with him to pass the time of day when he is travelling by plane.  He is still reading this same book: it went to Adelaide in February, to hospital in June and back again to Adelaide in August.  It is currently sitting in his carry on luggage waiting for the next trip.  Ask him and he'll tell you that the reason he hasnt finished the book is because it's crap...

But why do I read?  The chance to disappear into a novel with flamboyant and outrageous characters into exotic locations doing something other than office work is one of my most favourite things to do – not that there is anything wrong with office work (lol) and this has been the same since I was a little girl.  I have spent many, many hours held up on the lounge, or on the back step, or sitting on the side of the large dam way down the back paddock  spellbound by the latest instalment of The Camel Club (David Baldacci), or the latest Kay Scarpetta (Patricia Cornwell) instalment .   I can even be found on the front veranda surrounded by the Massie Lodge canines with the latest Dianne Blacklock novel.  I just love it.

Every night before I go to bed I get out my latest book and try and read a few paragraphs before my eyes close and refuse to re-open until morning.  More often than not my eyes close while I am still trying to read the same sentence for the 3^rd time and  wake up with the light on and the book still open and hour later.  Am I hopeless or what?  But its part of the magic of reading a paperback book!

And what of Book Shops?  I cant tell you how many hours I have spent in my life just browsing through book shops - not always to buy - but just to get up close and personal with all the books, be they new or used.  It would have to be one of my most  favourite things to do.  There is something very cold and calculated about dialling into the World Wide Web to find a book to buy - don't you think?

So why the negativity of E Books? As with buying a book online,  its hardly the same ambience sitting down the back paddock under a big umbrella  staring at an IPad screen scrolling through an electronic book.   I spend too much time as it is staring at my laptop screen when I am working – why should I have to  then do the same to read my beloved books?

To me, there is something very romantic about holding  a book of 900 dog-eared  pages,with the smell of prime paper in your hand with the anticipation of  turning the next page to find out what is going to happen next with the characters who have  become part of your world for the duration.  It’s like you step into the Wardrobe and walk into Narnia – you become part of the story.  Can you do that with an E Book?  I dont this so.  I mean what happens when you get to the important part and you have to recharge???

Its the having the book in your hands, the turning of the pages, its the smell of the paper, its  the fact that sometimes you have to sticky tape the pages back into the binding ...

Ok, I know that for writers E Books are another market to sell their books... but its just not the same is it?  Maybe I'm just an old romantic?

Simply put, I believe its having the book in your hand, being able to fall asleep at night with it after reading a most compelling chapter, its about being able to disappear into a book with the characters - isnt that the magic of books?

Somewhere in the back of my brain there is the thought that I would like to write a book – who knows - hold that thought!

Rapunzel, Rapunzel .....

There is something quite unruly about my hair. 

 I have quite vivid memories of my childhood where my mother would just look at my hair and say “darling, you have such special hair…” and I always wondered what was so special about my very thick, red - curly, wurley hair that was ever a distraction to me while I was growing up. Always on my list to Santa each year would be: 1. Ladies Bike, 2. Ronson Hairdryer with attaching inflatable drying hood and 3. Long straight red hair.

Growing up my hair was the centre of my universe: long or short my friends and I would make an afternoon of trying to straighten my hair and of course it was an exercise in futility: like paper always wins over rock, curls always win over straight hair.

Damn!

My best friend had beautiful straight locks that were the envy of all the girls in our class. It would flow way beneath her shoulders and down her back – in fact we spent many hours in school cutting out her split ends … much to chagrin of all the teachers. She always carried around a special pair of scissors for just this occasion and her ever warning words, “just cut out the split ends and not the good bits” – still ring clear in my mind some thirty years later. By the time we finished year 10, I have to say that I had become a very proficient split-end cutter but what was the chance that I could get employment with that skill?

The cumulative amount of money and time that I would spend at the hairdresser nearly amounts to the National Debt: washed, dried, cut very short with a different colour rat tail, or grown long and braided with pretty coloured ribbons; blonde highlights, dark red highlights – I have tried it all. No wonder my hairdresser was always happy to see me – a full morning spent in the salon followed by the “must” purchase of special anti frizz, protein adding shampoos, conditioners, special colour conditioners, anti frizzing gels, lotions and crèmes – I have tried them all! Mind you, all it took was one step outside the hairdresser’s and gone was my “do” and back came the curls!

Speaking about the trip to the hairdresser: there’s something very scary about letting a new hairdresser loose on your hair with a pair of scissors especially with my hair. More often than not we would discuss what I would like and then you would wait for her or his interpretation of what I wanted. Yikes!  Cup of coffee in hand, I would sit quietly but nervously in my chair looking into the mirror hoping like hell that they wouldn’t notice me staring at every movement of the scissors while sending them special thought messages not to stuff it up.

Ok, I have to admit that I haven’t been to the hairdresser for 10 years – so yes you are right surmising to say that I have taken to cutting (trimming) my own hair and putting a colour into it every now and then.

Even after hours in front of the mirror and with the most expensive anti-frizz cream, Evan still tells me that more days than not I look like the wild woman from Borneo with red curls flying all over the place doing what they feel they must, rather than what I want them to do but that’s ok I have finally realised that my red trusses, albeit messy and wild, are just a part of who I am.

And Evan loves his wild woman from Borneo!