It's a horse's life ...

As the blizzardy weather continues, so does the business - though tonight's customary occupation of choir practice hasn't happened, too many of our number calling off for reasons varying from being in Spain to being worried about the state of the Loch Eck road. My chief preoccupation was the text of the poetry book: after spending a full 90 minutes with the printer and the artist, I was sent home with what I'm thinking of as editorial "snagging", mainly to do with the positioning of random bits of text on the page. Mind you, I'm learning more about the Pages program as I go, in a way that reminds me of the school magazine I edited 20 odd years ago. Then it was the delights of Aldus Pagemaker and flowing text ...

However after my session with the printer my head was spinning and my neck stiff with screen-peering, so we abandoned everything and headed out into the hail showers for a walk up the forestry track in Glen Massan. (Forestry roads are less slippy after hail than tarmac.) We came upon these three horses in the muddy corner of their field; their shed looks very decrepit these days and the horses looked extremely sorry for themselves. We hoped we were right in thinking that they're hardy animals; I'm sure the mud isn't much fun. Do horses get trench foot?