Feest Isolation Days – 24 April
Yesterday I took part in a research group’s online questionnaire examining current behaviours during the coronavirus pandemic. The UK participants in this international study are Nottingham Trent University and the London School of Economics. One of the initial questions asked the participant to list the first names of all those people you have had contact with over the past seven days and how that contact was made; by email, face to face, phone, phone and vision, etc. The form only left enough room for twenty people and my spaces were quickly filled. It may seem as though we aren’t in touch with many people because the method of our communication has changed, but when we stop and reflect on our social interaction reality may shift. It did for me! The other questions were also well formed and, like all good research, made me stop and think about areas of my life that I hadn’t before. The link is at the bottom of the page if you fancy participating.
Not everything that comes into your inbox is always of interest but I love the excuse that people “don’t have time” to respond to something at the moment. Don’t they really mean I don’t want to, or, don’t choose to, but don’t have time? I can understand this is not only possible but likely from hard pushed parents who are trying to work, home school the kids, and keep the house going, but those of us not working or retired really don’t have those pressures on us anymore. Perhaps it’s always been the response we’ve given to everything we’d prefer not to do. There is plenty of time to sort out my clothes cupboards and tidy up the wardrobe. I just don’t want to! What don’t you want to do at the moment that you actually have plenty of time for? It is interesting when you stop and think about it. There are plenty of things I really don’t want to make time for, but the things I want to do? They are happening and will continue. I guess I always wanted to bake cakes. Another new one on the way this weekend!
Our rejuvenating walk of earlier this week has stayed with me. When my eyes close there are green fields and the horses that munched the grass are standing there staring at me. Most of the horses we met were behind electric fences, but three stood in a field bounded by the river and they weren’t fenced in. Terry took a wide berth but I walked right by them. Of course they were curious and interested and started to head towards me, but I shooed them away.
The house I grew up in was a five minute walk to a vast field where about four horses were fenced in by a single electric wire that was easy to crawl under when you were about eleven or twelve. My visits to the horses, especially during summer vacation, meant they ended up with daily sugar cubes or handfuls of grass. We got to be great friends. One day I couldn’t help myself, and somehow managed to climb up on the white stallion who didn’t seem to mind. Riding bareback we jaunted across the field. I didn’t tell anyone about my rides until one day I didn’t have a choice.
“What are you doing riding my horse?” It was the owner and I knew I was in big trouble. “Come down here!” I dutifully obeyed, but first I leaned forward and quietly said goodbye and thank you to Star, patting his mane before I hopped off and went towards Mr. Dounce. “Does your Mother know you’re here?” I shook my head. “This isn’t the first time you’ve been on my Star is it?” My head shook from side to side. “You can’t just go and ride horses without asking permission. You’re going to have to pay for your riding.” There was a long silence and he finally said, “Until you go back to school, you can muck out the barn and feed the horses – if you’re mother agrees. She did, I did, and my love of horses grew and my riding continued.
Later, when I was in High School, one of my friends had several appaloosas and we got up early and fed and watered them before we headed off to school. Some days in the winter it meant breaking through the ice that had formed on their trough. Eventually I became a city girl which meant my riding became a thing of the past. Thanks to an irascible but kind childhood neighbour and the best first horse ever, my love of horses remains. When I tried returning to riding many years later, my back wasn’t up to it anymore. Horses have never ever frightened me, and I’m grateful that I had the opportunity to enjoy the riding when I could. I sometimes wonder if I had experienced cows and bulls as a child if I would feel differently about meeting them on long country walks. Somehow, I doubt it!
Research study if you fancy taking part:
https://distancing-covid19-survey.herokuapp.com/study?tid=79OP8Al5&lg=en
Love,
Kathy x