Rob Roy

My Father’s gorgeous dark bay hunter.  Here’s Rob with Fred, our devoted groom, who was actually employed by the owners of stables up the road but often came to our house to make Rob look his very best, particularly for Badminton Horse Trials where my Father was a mounted steward for many years, starting probably in the late ‘50s.  I don’t know when this photo was actually taken but on the back it says – Photograph by Peter A Harding, The Studio, Tetbury, Glos. Tel: 158.  So it must have been some time ago!  When I was little I adored this huge horse, he was my constant companion, a gentle giant and I spent hours sitting on the straw in his stable, reading my books to him or chatting away.  He never complained! Needless to say I was gutted when he was no longer there, but I was away at school by then and about to embark on my new life.

My first extra is my Father on Rob and me on my first pony taken in the early ‘50s I should think.
My second extra is of my parents and my sister, and Lucy, McGregor and Lettuce (the Scotties) and another horse which I don’t remember, sadly all of whom are long since gone.  Our lovely house is still very much there though and is now a very swish B&B.  Mr HB and I went to stay there a few years ago, such a strange feeling to be sleeping in the hen house and stables next to the house but which has now been attached to the house and made into a super self-contained annexe.  Breakfast was served in what I remember was the old drawing room with the fabulous inglenook fireplace (chimney smoked often as I recollect!) Very weird to see all other parts of the house, our old bedrooms, bathrooms, now beautifully modernised (no ice forming on the inside of all the windows now) but best of all was the kitchen, wow, what a transformation.  The owners have combined the kitchen and scullery and turned it into a dream kitchen, beautifully done with all mod cons, AGA etc.  When we stayed there we took old photos with us and gave them copies which they were thrilled with and I was pleased to hear that they had horses which they did competition dressage and eventing with. My Mum was an artist and did a beautiful watercolour of the 5 Yew trees down one side of the long drive. They were there in the ‘40s and were still exactly the same when we visited a few years ago and looking very healthy too.  Mum warned us never to eat or even touch the juicy looking red berries as they are deadly poisonous, she said.  Aged about 6 or 7 I think, I had a swig of the meths in the shed, well it was a pretty mauve colour.   Mum was distraught apparently but I don’t remember a thing about it.  
Aaaaah, what memories.. Rob Roy was a very good memory but the worst one, which still haunts me, was during WW2 when Mum had day old chicks, reared them, sold the eggs I presume and killed some for us I suppose?  I was very young but had to help Mum catch two hens each and carry them by their feet to the slaughter.  She would then put a broom stale over their heads, and pulled their necks.  It was really awful and my lasting memory is of one of the hen’s head coming off …….  But it flew off, over the house without its head.  OMG I do remember having very bad dreams after that memory.  Sorry.


 
Memory for MonoMonday.  Thanks to sk for hosting.