Smoked out   Leave a comment

Run down and blown away.

So, Sunday the 22nd of May 2011. Brigstock Horse Trials and all-you-can-eat Chinese. If it were all-you-can-eat French or Belgian you’d know what happened to the guilty ones.

At the trials it was a blustery day, and a bit nippy when it was cloudy; my sister’s still limping from falling off the other week, so we couldn’t walk around quickly to keep warm. Still, pleasant enough.
Speaking of my sister’s injuries, she decided to discuss them with one of the patrolling St. John’s Ambulance guys. Unfortunately his partner made a bee-line for me and started telling me about all the rare loot (tie pins or something?) he was intensely proud of aquiring from attending football games as an Ambulanceer. Unfortunately, I had no idea what he was talking about. Of course I know of football – it’s the thing people do between advertising cosmetics – but tie pins? I’m sure they don’t wear ties. So I had to try to not look scared by the man talking to me, to not look confused about his topic of conversation, to make appropriate, friendly and encouraging noises, and to not stare at the massive black hair poking out of his right nostril.
There’s a bit of social rehabilitation for me right there.

Brigstock’s not as well organised as Burley, unsurprisingly; we were sauntering down the humans-not-horses bit, and a novice on a rather excited horse came down the track towards us, almost squashing some people with their backs to her. It became apparent that the horse was about to set off around the cross-country, and we should get out of its way. Unfortunately I didn’t know where it was trying to go, but I spotted a little white fenced-off bit and figured I’d hide in there until it sorted itself out, accidentally figuring out exactly where the horse was going. Oh well. Still, I got out of the way and the horse got on its way on time, so all’s well that ends well.
It seems odd that the competitor/spectator areas crossed like that without any warning. Quite a lot of the course didn’t have anything seperating the spectators from the competitors’ route and fences. A token rope on a stick won’t stop a horse, or even a person, but it does let everybody know where they ought – and ought not – to be walking. I don’t like having to actually pay attention to my surroundings to avoid death by trampling!

Afterwards the Chinese was nice (only suffering from being unusually empty, which didn’t suit a few of the dishes as they’d been around longer than normal) as it always is, and there was no nastiness from my family. Quite proud that I didn’t stuff myself stupid, merely until I was happy, for a change. A good time had by all.
Unfortunately, when I got home, the house stank of smoke. It’s quite ominous to walk indoors and be hit by burning smells, but after a check around it turned out I’d just left a window open, so somebody must have had a barbecue or bonfire nearby and it’d all blown straight in the window with the stiff breeze. The only casualty was my clean washing on the drying rack, which now smells like I’ve developed a 60-a-day habit or spent an afternoon at my parents’. Annoying, but could be worse.

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