Thursday, 4 February 2010

Preparations

As I mentioned the other day, the Polo Player's first game of the season is taking place this weekend in Melbourne. We're taking 14 horses and four muzzles (yes, as in dog, but equine) with us. Number of horseboxes required? Just the one. It's so big, they've got CCTV and video screen hooked up so the driver can keep an eye on our four legged friends in the back. And / or put a DVD on for the passenger when the road gets dull.

With all those ponies to preen and prepare, it's fair to say that taking care of myself hasn't really been high on my list of priorities. My nails are broken and harbouring vast quantities of dirt; my eyebrows could do with a pluck or twenty. My arms, exposed all day, are turning a dark shade of brown, but I'm really not sure whether I'm tanned or just dirty. By the time I've taken the quad bike back to the house at half 6 and jumped in the shower, I've barely got the energy to wash my hair and scrub my skin, let alone shave my cactus-like legs.

But I have to say, I really quite like it. Not only is being a bit mucky inevitable when you live in a place where the last rain fell 12 years ago, but it's really quite ok here not to be clean. It's not ok to be smelly (e.g. yesterday when the Polo Player caught a whiff of The Great Dane's B.O, went 'f***ing hell mate' and handed him a can of deodorant), but unclean, yes. Being the only girl in a team of three blokes (the Polo Player's friend, a tall, blonde 19 year old, has also come to stay and play polo for the season - and Roseki, yes, he is), it's fair to say that I get the brunt of the sexist jokes. And arse slapping. And several earfuls a day of hilariously crude, Aussie humour.

So when the Polo Player sat us all down at breakfast yesterday morning for an impromptu 'business meeting' (aka, he got up late and needed time to drink his coffee), he soon compiled a To Do List. As you'll see below, my flights, the horses medication and equipment, as well as our weekend accommodation, were all on the day's agenda.

And then there's item four.



It seems as the token female, a fine layer of dirt is more than welcome. But legs so spiky that they impale any hand brushing past them, are not.

Bah. Not fair.

7 comments:

All Mod Cons said...

HAHAHAHAAAA!! Too funny!!!

Brennig said...

It's the same at our yard. I'm the token bloke (Owen doesn't count and neither does Nial the farrier). The girls gang up on me and take the piss, make me the brunt of their humour. So I retaliate. Comments about saggy boobs and big arses often trip out of my mouth, as a form of self-defence, obv.

theperpetualspiral said...

That is very funny indeed!

Bren - can't believe you even dare to take the mickey out of those girls!

nuttycow said...

You're going to have such an exciting time. I'm so envious!!

Kate said...

I love it - very funny.

not twitter said...

Are you going hirsute to frighten the spiders? Perhaps not but are they frightened anyway?

roseski said...

Ha, love it :) Send him my way!

I miss working with guys so much... I spent all my first degree playing in the mud with army boys and now I'm embarking on a career full of whinging women in staff rooms. Great.

 

Blog Template by YummyLolly.com - RSS icons by ComingUpForAir