I spent a section of my Sunday at a North Yorkshire horse show with my buddy Sarah, her youngest daughter Katelan, Simon (K’s partner)and their handsome specimen of equine majesty who goes by the name Fendi.
Consequently, for a few calming hours I spent my time standing in awe at the sheer magnificence of these creatures parading in front of me. Each groomed to within an inch of their lives, they proudly paraded adjoining fields and rings with peacock-like hubris, overt cock surety, elegance and grace….. The horses weren’t bad either.
Talking of cocks, one of the most memorable moments of the event was a black horse who, judging from his aroused member, must’ve been the equine world’s Ron Jeremy. The clearly distracted animal ruining any chance of prevailing in the obedience class, but later gained consolation by winning the ‘Target of Penis Envy’ event…… His prize nine rosettes which where pinned to his horsehood by a clearly nervous judge.
I know very little about horses, and if your don’t believe me ask my local bookmaker from his Mustique mansion; a gaff yours truly partly financing with his idiotic approach of gambling on clapped out donkeys from Blackpool beach.
However, following Sunday’s mingle within horsey circles, I’ve learned Fendi’s a two year old Welsh breed which doesn’t mean I’m a gee gee expert, but does prove to Sarah she’s talking out of her backside when she claims I never listen to her.
I don’t know Simon and Katelan’s inspiration for his name (the horse not Simon), but did ponder whether it was inspirited by a line from a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang song. This the section of the refrain when Caractacus Potts and his brood observe the revamped flying car to be a “Fine four fendied friend’….. That being said, as I’m fairly sure the lyrics suggest Chitty’s a four fendered friend, not four fendied, such an assertion is probably well wide of the mark!
Fendi, pristine of pelt and sentry straight of gait, came second in two of the classes he was entered. The enchanting equine also gained positive feedback from a judge; a fella who pointed out to the owners that when he’s old enough (Fendi, not Simon) he’d take to being ridden like a duck to water…… Well, with a caveat the fat bloke from TV’s ‘The Chase’ doesn’t ride him (again Fendi, not Simon). which’d traumatised the poor horse!
In all seriousness, though, I thoroughly enjoyed yesterday’s experience of being amongst the horsey crowd. It’s a group in which I feel yours truly could fit in with almost seamlessly….. After all, I’ve got a flat cap and like chomping contemplatively on wheat straw; what more do I need for the gig?!
In their 1980s refrain Love Action, band The Human League warbled:-
“I’ve had my hard times (hard times!) in the past
I’ve been a husband and a lover too
I’ve laid alone and cried at night
Over what love made me do
And the loved ones who let me down
And couldn’t share my point of view
But this is Phil talking, I wanna tell you
What I found to be true……”
Those lyrics have absolutely nothing to do with today’s blog topic, however I thought I’d share the words in the event you get that specific inquiry in a pub quiz!
To close I want to point out today is a bit of a landmark for GJ Strachan. That accolade being this is the 2,600th blog I’ve penned since embarking on this literary odyssey in March 2015.
Seven years where I’ve fictionally and factually journaled my rollercoaster lifestyle, including losing both parents, suffering a heart attack, leaving my marital home, meeting several inspirational individuals, sought to (and generally succeeded) avoid toxic individuals, along with eye opening visits to Canada, Scotland, Wales and several European locations.
As I bring the piece to its denouement this erratic minded fella wanted to share a few statistics relating to the scribing sojourn I’ve undertaken. An odyssey which’s help me grow immeasurably as a person, imparting me with much higher levels of confidence and brio in equal measure:-
Website hits – 142,000+ in over 160 countries worldwide.
Number of words written – A number between 17 and 48 million….. I know that’s vague, however you sure don’t expect me to count ever word in those 2,600 narrative do you?!
Cups of coffee drank while blogging – 4,754
Bags of Haribo eaten while scribing – 2,226
Toilet visits during the writing process – 4,231 (A figure augmenting at an alarming speed as my prostate journeys through middle-age).
Hits by readers with the name Tracy – I’ve no idea; I don’t collate such ridiculously absurd statistically data.
Hits by readers with the name Creosote – Even though I don’t collate such ridiculously absurd statistically data, I’d venture with a high degree of certainty none of the 142,000 hits were made by someone bearing such a moniker!!