I still can't decide. I've had a (small) offer for him, but ....oh dear.
And then I had the following telephone conversation with my daughter last night (she of the club raid photo):
Daughter: Have you decided about the horse yet?
Me: Ooooh....I still can't make up my mind.
Daughter: Well don't, then. Hang on to him. Just don't fall off. We don't want you knocking out your next book with a stick tied to your head.
Isn't she sweet? I now can't get that image out of my head. Me, propped up at the computer in my wheelchair, said stick attached to my forehead like a miner's lamp, laboriously tapping out my next oeuvre, letter by letter, wishing I'd got rid of the bloody horse when I knew it was the right thing to do...
Talking of Titch, his new year's resolution seems to be to decide that tractors are terrifying. As I said to him, he's lived on a farm for the past three years. He knows about tractors. But Titch's motto has always been You Can Never Be Sure, and now that applies to tractors as well as everything else. We spent fifteen minutes dancing in the road while poor Lionel (who drives the tractor) waited patiently, with a queue of cars behind him. Another good reason for finding that New Home.
I wonder where you buy those sticks; the kind you tie to your head to write books? I must find out. Just in case...
Friday, 6 January 2012
Posted by Frances Garrood at 09:54
Labels: hands-free typing, unruly horses
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Of course it's a difficult decision, Frances - but New Year, new home for Titch maybe?ReplyDelete
I now have a wonderful picture of you in my head too tap,tapping at your keys, though you can talk to your computer these days, but what if you can't speak?ReplyDelete
There was a lady who use to paint with a paintbrush tied between her toes.
I know it's hard but think of the fun Titch might have without you:-) Though, if he misses you enough he may runaway and come back to you.
Just a thought.
Don't even think about it. Your daughter sounds like a sensible woman, in that she recognises how reverse psychology works on parents as well as children.ReplyDelete
I now have visions of you propped up on a horse like El Cid. Don't let that happen!ReplyDelete
Just thinking outside the box: Keep Titch as a pasture ornament, buy a more sedate horse so that you can ride and lead:)ReplyDelete
Rosemary, if I accept the offer, he'll stay where he is. At least for the moment.ReplyDelete
Jarmara, I can't even paint with my hands!
Deborah, you may have a point, but I know the kids worry. I worry about motorbike son..
Maggie, I'll try not to!
English Rider, I can't afford to keep a horse as an ornament! But a mroe sedate model might be the answer.
I expect the stick comes free with the chair - please don't put yourself in the situation of finding out.ReplyDelete
Gee thanks, Patsy. Or I could make my own, provided of course that I can still use my hands...ReplyDelete
I don't envy you having to decide, Frances. I like English Rider's suggestion - what we need is a substantial lottery win!ReplyDelete
I have to come back to the round robin rant.ReplyDelete
So, there are some very nice fundamentalist Christians?
I beg to bleedin' differ They're only nice if you stay away from fundamentalist Christianity, and they become raging loonies the minute you get off the blandest of subjects in the most nothingest of conversations.
One of these morons is a very close relative of mine, I can hardly bear to look into the couple's smug and self-righteous faces without wanting to slap them, hard.
Of course I never do. But neither do I have any meaningful conversation with them.
Teresa, if only...but I don't do the lottery. I don't even know how to fill in the form!ReplyDelete
Friko, I do know what you mean. But I have some other fundamentalist Christian relatives (by marriage, again) who really epitomise the generosity that is at the centre of the Christian faith. But if you get them on the subject of Darwin, heaven help you!You have obviously had a very bad experience. Having said all that, I cannot imagine having a FC as a close friend as we would soon come to blows!