Books, Mud and Compost. And Horses.

Carrying on from my last post, I started replying to the comments but went galloping off down so many side alleys I thought I'd just post and have done with it. I won't take my Penguin classic with me, though if I did, I'm sure I could find reasons for its sudden and tragic disappearance, preventing me reviewing it. The main one, I think, is its potential as a source of infection. Oops! There it goes - drowned under a pool of antiseptic hand wash. Every now and then I get elderly library books in stock, with a list of firm instructions in the front (none of this openness, let the toddlers drool on the books stuff here) in which you are firmly told not to turn down page corners, mark the books and that you MUST let the library staff know if the book has been in contact with anyone who has an infectious disease. As I am looking for displacement activity in a strenuous effort to try and avoid finishing my tax return (nearly there but I am finding it so hard to make the e...

I'm trying frantically to get my desk (and my mind) clear before Thursday 24th, as I am then, in theory, due to go into hospital to have my nose mended. I am only in overnight (again in theory) but I have a dilemma - what do I take in to read? I am halfway through Rosy Thornton's Hearts and Minds , for which many thanks to Juliet . I am thoroughly enjoying this portrait of the poisonous politicking of student and staff, but I fear I will have finished it before Thursday, and I know I don't have the discipline to leave the book alone now I've got my teeth into it. On my bedside table is the very unfinished The Blair Years, which is not quite the thing when you are on your bed of pain and want your mind taken off life, rather than being so irritated you burst your stitches. I keep picking this up, reading a few pages and then putting it down again, so desperate with the longing to give all the major characters a sharp slap that I can go no further. I don't want to ...

Miles walked = 12 Blisters = 7 Sensible shoes worn = 0 Well done daughter - you made it!

Trixie and the Dream Pony of Doom by Ros Asquith Harper Collins, £4.99 It's such a marvellous title, isn't it? The Dream Pony of Doooooooom. I could not resist the title, and so, along with a load of other things it made its way across the Atlantic to me via Book Closeouts (though that said, it is actually a British book). I had a lot of fun before the book arrived conjuring up scenarios for The Dream Pony of Doom. Was it a Connemara fresh from Ireland, with a liking for the mystical? Or a sadly clumsy Shetland? Or maybe a literate pony convinced it was the next Cassandra? Well no, and no, and no. It really isn't a pony book in the classic sense: this title is part of a series about Trixie, who is badged as "your bestest friend ever", and her adventures. The book could just as easily be the Dream Kitten of Doom: the pony's a vehicle for the story. Trixie is desperate to have a pony, and hopes her grandma will win a television quiz and buy her that pon...

Marks & Spencer has been in Kettering for as long as I can remember, and it's never changed much. Apart from the knicker department, I usually walk on, on, on through the clothes part. The colours are over-bright, the styles look dire on the mannequins - and they're thin, so what on earth will they look like on me? - and nothing looks as if it much wants to be put with anything else. However, last week, I was whizzing past Marks & Sparks after an unsuccessful quest to find running shoes (I decided I didn't want to wait for the assistants to finish their conversation) and I spotted a coral scoop neck top. Aha! I thought. I like that, and it's cheap. So, in I sailed, to be faced with a display of scoop neck tops. There they were: bright blue, bright green and sundry other colours, but not a single coral. Stopped in my tracks, I had a quick glance at the other side of the shop. Nope. Racks of A-line skirts, displayed in that fetching frontways-on method Marks ...

It's been a shamefully long time since I did a review. My fellow reviewer will not be contributing to this. I made the fatal mistake of buying her the first two Georgia Nicholson books, and so all hope was lost as far as horsey book reviewing went. Added to that, she is now off in Germany on her school trip, wildly excited as this is the first time she has been Abroad. She was so full of whoomph she managed to get up effortlessly at 3.00 am on Wednesday so we could get to Kettering in time for the 4.15 am start. Although I am definitely a lark, and usually wake at 5.00 am at this time of year, 3.00 am was pushing it a little, particularly as I didn't sleep well, being too petrified of oversleeping and missing the off..... despite having own mobile, son's and husband's all set for a 3.00 am alarm call. When son did this trip (though it was France in his case) one of his friends did miss the coach, and so his mother chased it down the M1 before finally catching up at...

I get asked to donate prizes and vouchers to various horsey organisations and I'm generally pretty happy to oblige. Recently, a certain branch of the Pony Club (who shall remain nameless, but they are not local to me) and Equine Market Watch asked me for prizes. So, always wanting to encourage the younger entry, and having a lot of time for EMW, I wrote off to both saying yes, of course I would help. Had a lovely message from EMW. Nothing from the Pony Club. The message from EMW was so kind, I in fact sent them two books rather than the one I'd originally promised, for which I had a lovely thank you letter, and they've been nothing but kind and helpful ever since. I sent the book off to the Pony Club, and I have heard nothing back. Not a word. I'm prepared to believe they didn't get my email, but the book hasn't been returned to me, so I presume it's there. This may sound rather sour, but if you're supposed to be encouraging the younger entry, teac...