The Sound of Music

Clyde will be in two classes at Sudeley, Class 6: Novice Jumping 2’3” and Class 8: 2’6” (riders 16 and under). We entered him under the name Braveheart (at last!) because ‘Clyde’ – well, it just sounds so cloppery. (This may lead to some confusion when everyone’s eyes are trained on the showring expecting the entry of something noble, and in stomps Clyde). There’s also some Clear Round classes and a Cross Country course you can enter on the day, so we’ll see how our old boy’s legs last out since he has to hack there and back as well. Clyde is a bit rusty on the showjumping front. He still makes a heroic dash for any jump he sees, but years of riding-school-naggery means that after each touchdown it'll be a miracle if he doesn’t shamble off meekly looking for the back of the queue. All we’re hoping for is no disasters and a wonderful day out, for this time last year we went to watch with our noses pressed against the ring fence, and hung around Pat in the hopes she would say “Pony-girl! Take FlightyOne the Third and put him round the 3’9 Open Jumping, his rider has fled in panic and only you can Save the Day!” (she did not.)

Even without the prospect of a show, life at the stables has been exciting, what with PG’s young friend Lolly getting her first horse. Now, Pat had recommended ‘a nice safe steady piebald cob’ (as she does) but Lolly’s parents fell in love with Pegasus, who can clear 4ft with ease and dash off dressage piaffes with his twinkly throughbred feet. A dream-rosette sparkled in each proud parental eye as they foresaw Lolly riding Pegasus to glory at show after show but alas, he is unrideable. Poor Lolly is too frightened to get on him, and there but for the grace of Pat go we, for I too dreamed of showtime glory for my Precious, but I was too terrified of Pat to turn down Clyde when she offered him, and very glad we are too. Clyde may be more milk-cart than prancing steed but at least he doesn’t have to be herded from stable to arena by five stablegirls armed with pitchforks.

Life at home has its moments too: RPD has a keen eye for saving money and when J requested a printer beside her new PC to print out all her GCSE work (2 pages a month) and Horse Facts (15 pages a night) there came a chance for one of those savings. “Aha!” cunningly said he, “Mummy is so clever that she will arrange for you to be able to print from your own PC to one of the printers in the house, with one click!” It works a treat: J makes the one click, and in another room far away, a printer leaps into life and starts to clackety-clack away, clunkily regurgitating page after page of Ailments of the Horse. Now it just so happens that the printer that clacks into life 10 times a night in response to J’s one click is RPD’s own, in his study, right next to his armchair where he sits quietly perusing learned books. It seems to alarm him and wild shouts and muffled splutters can be heard from his room. “,,, printer!! again!! What - ??” No amount of pointing out that it was his idea and it saves money seems to soothe him, especially as he had also forgotten that he would be getting many visits from PG in person, bursting through the door to collect the output. Spirited arguments ensue:
“DOH!!!! That’s enough! How many times have you been in tonight?”
“But it’s my music homework, daddy.”
“Ridiculous! That’s the umpteenth page, how long does it need to be?”
“I bet Mozart never got that from his dad!” Etc.

Counting the days - Friday - Saturday - and Sunday’s the day of Sudeley Show!