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13 November 2013

Now what?

There's a flat period I go through at the conclusion of every single Spring Racing Carnival that I have ever photographed.  Some years have been worse than others.  At least this year, as with the last two, won't give me as much of chance to experience that dreaded 'now what?' feeling which I hate so much. 

As in previous years the Carnival rushed up on me. It was all consuming andI was  hardly   at home. And then it all came to an end, with what felt like the usual huge crash, which left me wondering what to do now. There are other aspects to these feelings. Other hopes and dreams I had. And not all of them came true. I remind myself sharply that I have a stupid amount of work to finish, and that paddling is the last thing I can afford to do now. 

At least the past two years, from a work perspective, have helped to stem these feelings purely through keeping me very busy.  Too much  time on my hands is always a killer when things don't feel happy and rosy. I had The Famous Pony Black Caviar keep me busy "Post Spring" and to stop the flatness that creeps in.  Some of my most special and iconic images of her were created in December and January.  

Last December I spent time in the Hunter Valley with my treasured stallions, and also had fun with some beautifully bred mares, and their babies, at Arrowfield. There were some pretty tough aspects to that shoot, but it ended well.  Then of course I had that wonderful trip to see The Famous Pony in December. As well as my first trip to the Gold Coast for Magic Millions. 

It was my work, especially That Famous Pony and her Farewell Tour, that saved me through the New Year and the roller coaster that was the first half of the year. Did I believe in miracles then?  I guess so, and I'm no different now. Miracles are finicky and tricky little beasts though. Alas and woe they don't always come true. When they do it's a wonderful thing. But when they don't??? Well that's usually a good excuse to place my blue stool down gently and sit in my kitchen with a cup of tea. Like I am doing now. 

The last part of my year won't slow down at all. There's another trip to The Hunter. And the Gold Coast is I think happening again in January.  In addition to all of this I have the very small matter of our  move to Melbourne.    Except that it isn't little, is it?  It's huge.....

Freelance is ok, by the way. I'm sorry that my last post alarmed some of my lovely readers who sent me worried messages. I worry about her almost like one of my kids. There are some of you who know how important she is. She grows older, and is 20 now. I've had her since she was 4  years old. Losing your horse is a bit like breaking up with someone who meant the world to you. Both break your heart. People say, in an attempt to lift you up, that another much better one will come along easily enough and that there are plenty more out there. The heart is a stubborn beast though, and is not quite so easily convinced.   

The past 3 weeks with Freelance have made me realise that the solution I thought I had worked out for her isn't looking nearly as straight forward as I thought it would be. And she again reminds me that she's not the sort of horse I can throw in a paddock and check every now and again it have someone else do that. I've not kept her that way. She's been rugged and pampered and fussed over her whole life. I wish that she could live at Lyn's house. But the heartbreak and drama a single mare can cause to a property full of geldings makes it out of the question. She's still not over losing Finny. And I get that completely. 


I've fed Freelance this morning. Whilst she finished I sat in Dan and put a tiny bit if makeup in before heading to work, which I didn't have time to do before leaving the house. Some days I decide I should make more of an effort. She finishes her brekky which from a quantity point of view she thought was absolutely inadequate. Kaylene is tougher than I am. She was on a tougher diet in my absence. I am too soft. I know that. Too well. She wanders across and stands determinedly by my car. "What about 2nd breakfastses?" She says hopefully. She's back being rugged again against the cold nights. I know I should be toughening her up. I just can't do it yet though. I don't think my mare would make it in the wild!

Tough little bugger, isn't it..  It refuses to die.

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