Conkers and Decorations

On Monday afternoon, Britney (not her real name) and I went conker stealing. We went off on our bikes with our plastic colanders for protection and spent a happy hour and a half breaking open the green and brown husks of the Horse Chestnut tree.

When our backpacks could hold no more we cycled home with the company of the setting sun, thinking longingly of the hot bath that would thaw out our fingertips. Later Britney lovingly polished each of the 187 conkers with an old sock and put them on display in a wire basket that is meant to hold eggs in my kitchen. After Britney had gone to bed, I sneakily removed a few of the smaller conkers and placed them strategically around the house. The conker is meant to emit some kind of noxious substance that wards off spiders and after I threw a large glass of Shiraz all over my sofa when an enormous arachnid landed on my foot a few nights ago, I am willing to try anything. So yes, I had a bit of an ulterior motive when I suggested that Britney and I go conker stealing.

This week is half term (hence the conker theft) and this Saturday marks the end of British Summer Time.

It means that it’s that time of year again.

I’m not referring to the time when the Autumnal chill creeps into the air once the sun has begun to set or the onset of Christmas adverts on TV; it’s the time of year when those bizarre people who own a “Field Ornament” suddenly develop an interest in riding it.

I refer to these people as “Field Decorators” and once you get your eye in they are fairly easy to spot. They are the people who wear clean, non-holey jodhpurs in Sainsbury’s and can’t ride in a taxi with the door shut. They usually own more than one Field Ornament, often one of them is at least 105 years old and is still not broken to ride and the other is an unsuitable pony who has bucked off everyone in the County under the age of 10 and therefore has not been ridden for over 15 years. They talk loudly at parties about their Field Ornaments and always tell the entire room that they unfortunately have to go home early to muck out.

Good God, if I haven’t mucked out by 9am I am so ashamed that I don’t tell anyone. I even lied to Other Half last Saturday as I was quietly trying to finish mucking out my stable at 2pm without him knowing. “Are you just mucking out now?” he asked incredulously, forcing me to cough and reply breezily that I was just “tidying up”. If I’m at a party I’m the one whispering “I shreally sshood go home ash I haventsh gosh the fecking horsh in yet” but at least I am safe in the knowledge that my stable is clean and ready to receive my horse when I bring him inside in a slightly intoxicated fashion. Why brag that you haven’t bothered to muck out yet? In horsey circles that’s about as popular as a dusty cat at an allergy clinic.

It puzzles me as to why the Field Decorator suddenly develops an interest in riding when British Summer Time is about to end. From May to September we have had some incredible riding weather, some days you could have ridden in daylight anytime between 5am and 8.30pm. So why does the Field Decorator rush out in October purchase a high visibility jacket, a flashing red light and proceed to imagine that they are shortlisted for the British team?

On the plus side, you can rest assured that you won’t meet the Field Decorator on the school run, because they choose to ride their horse on the public highway once everyone is home from work and having a gin & tonic. Yes, that’s correct, in the dark. And I can’t think of anything more dangerous. If I can’t see where I’m going, I’m fairly certain that Dobbin can’t either.

The Field Decorator also rides their Ornament everywhere at a snail’s pace. There is no trotting and definitely no cantering for fear of falling off. Going for a ride takes a very long time if you walk everywhere and if you are short of padding in the arse department it is excruciating. You will return to the yard with your seatbones on fire wishing you had one of those gel seat covers that I use on my bike.

Aside from the excitement when he is trying to see where he is going during his evening hacking, The Field Ornament has a slightly dull life. Yes he has the luxury of being able to eat as much grass as he wants, but he has no job and most horses thrive on routine and work. This Field Ornament does absolutely nothing but eat and have shiny new shoes fitted everytime one falls off. In the winter when I find that I am mostly riding in the gloom, I tend to ride off road as much as possible. It is during this time that my Farrier will examine a shoe that he has just removed from my horse’s foot and utter the biggest put down in the world: “Not doing much with him at the minute, are you?” This is my Farrier’s way of politely saying: “You haven’t worn the fecking shoe down. You are clearly not riding this horse at all because real horses trot around the roads for hours to harden their tendons and keep them fit; and don’t ponce around the field margins for 40 minutes every morning before the school run.” This makes me wonder what he says to the Field Decorator. Or does he just smile, remove the unworn shoes, shave a bit of hoof off, slap them back on again and carefully put the cheque in his pocket?

Another common trait of the Field Decorator is the vivid colour of all their horse’s garments. I am an old fashioned horse owner, which means my horse’s clothing consists of 3 colours: black, brown and navy. White is acceptable on some occasions but purple, yellow, green and sodding pink are most definitely out. The Field Decorator’s Ornament could bring on an epileptic fit. Stars, stripes, hoops, primary colours and glitter are all there in abundance.

The Field Decorator’s own wardrobe is crammed will all the latest riding gear and possibly the same brand of riding hat as the most recent Olympic dressage champion; which comes in handy and keeps them nice and safe when they leave it on the parcel shelf of their car in Sainsbury’s car park.

You can also spot a Field Decorator as their horse will be wearing a rug to keep them warm when the temperature is warm enough for us in Northumberland to be wearing shorts. And in the November their horse is probably still wearing a mesh rug that is designed to protect the creature’s skin from the biting flies that disappear at the end of August.

I would love to tell you that the Field Decorator continues to ride all winter, but they don’t. This mad, high octane form of riding only lasts a few weeks and then the horse is out in the field again wearing a rug that it will continue to wear until Easter.

The Field Ornament is a bit like the conkers. Carefully selected, lovingly polished at first but forgotten about as soon as they become old and a bit shrivelled.