Scarlett Pages

Reports of Mayor's Death (Sadly) NOT Exaggerated

While I haven't posted anything about Romania in some time, as one can imagine, it remains a topic of conversation in my house. Mostly less than positive conversation. 

Plus, my favorite NPR program, Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me!, a weekly quiz show devoted to ferreting out the most inane bits of news reported each week, seems to feature an item from Romania nearly every week. 

So lest anyone think my tales of life in Romworld are in any way exaggerated, allow me to refer to this week's entry, as reported by Reuters and other news services:

Village re-elects dead mayor

Mon Jun 16, 2008 2:19pm EDT

BUCHAREST (Reuters) - The residents of a Romanian village knowingly voted in a dead man as their mayor in Sunday's municipal election, preferring him to his living opponent.

Neculai Ivascu, 57, who ran the village for almost two decades, died from liver disease just after voting began -- but still won the election by a margin of 23 votes.

A local official said the authorities decided to keep the poll open in case Ivascu's opponent, Gheorghe Dobrescu, won, avoiding the need for a re-run.

"I know he died, but I don't want change," a pro-Ivascu villager told Romanian television.

In the end, election authorities gave the post to the runner-up, but some villagers and Ivascu's party, the powerful opposition Social Democrat Party (PSD), have called for a new vote.

(Reporting by Marius Zaharia; Editing by Raissa Kasolowsky)

First off, "liver disease" is code for "alcoholism." Reminds me of when the next village had to elect a new mayor when the current one died in his early 40s from alcoholism. And second, I love the quote because it really illustrates how the population developmentally has not grown beyond early adolescence. To deny reality in hopes that you can prevent change (or avoid punishment or responsibility), is that not the behavior of a child?

Good Effing Morning to You Too Mr. Sun

Today I discovered that it is light outside at 4:40 a.m. I realize we're just two days past the summer solstice, the day of the year with the most hours of light, but seriously, isn't it just impolite, even indecent, for the sun to be out before 5 a.m.? Even in the summer? 

Bars in New York stay open until 4 a.m. To me, that's still considered the "wee" hours of the morning and the sun has no business rising while people can still conceivably be stumbling home after last call. That's just wrong. 

Anyway, this is was a disturbing discovery because I try to make it a point to be asleep at that hour. I can't really remember the last time I saw 4:40 a.m. from either side--up late or up early. Insomnia is soooo conduce to learning new things. 

I looked through my photo collection for a pic of a sunrise to post here, but then I remembered: I'm not a morning person; I don't "do" sunrise. 

This Is Your Grass on Horse

In case anyone is unclear on what happens to all that lovely grass and hay that we feed to our horses:

This is also an illustration of what happens when the husband does not--despite several reminders--take his turn poo-picking his stallion's paddock. That's two-weeks' worth of horse poo that I picked up today while he was out riding. The man estimates it at approximately 220 pounds. Holy crap!

To make my point about the man once again ignoring a dirty, unpleasant job until I have to do it, I did make him empty all three wheelbarrows. Plus there is the public shaming here, before my vast readership. 

Oopsy-Daisy Redux

When I fell off my horse the first time, it was roughly a month before I started riding again. It definitely shakes one's confidence. For the last week or so, the man and I have been taking the horses out almost daily on short rides to help build up their feet now that they are barefoot. Because their feet are adjusting to being without shoes, we've been mostly walking them, with a bit of trotting. But I know my man and I know he's also been trying to build my confidence back up.

So yesterday we took a longer ride and came to the place where I had fallen off. (My clever man had planned this, I know.) We decided to try cantering the horses. And you know what happened? I choked. I let my nervousness get the best of me, lost my form and balance, and fell off again. In the exact same place! I'm so mad at myself! 

Luckily, I didn't hit as hard, so no migraine this time. Just a bit achy all over. But it's very disheartening. I think it's time for some lessons in the riding school. 

A Thing of Beauty Is a Joy to Behold

The man's contacts in the horse world are many and varied. For example, yesterday we had lunch with several women from Cambridge who are working on tracing the history of horses via DNA. Their work involves travel to places that would not be on the top of my list--Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, Kyrgyzstan, Azerbaijan--and involves not only the DNA study, but a strong archaeological component as they study ancient skeletons as well. It's impressive stuff. 

While I was somewhat bored by all the horse talk, the day did provide an excellent photo opportunity when we visited the farm of a young Russian woman, now settled in England, who breeds Akhal-Teke horses. Not a breed I was aware of, but these are beautiful beasts, with an almost-idealized combination of delicacy, regality, strength, and agility. You can read more about them on Van's blog, so I won't repeat the information here.

This is the stallion, a simply stunning animal with possibly the most impressive muscle definition I've seen.

The mare is a more common color, but still beautiful and very friendly. 

Together they have produced this gorgeous little filly, who at nine months is already approaching the height of her sire and dam. Both mare and filly were so friendly, coming right up to us for attention, following you if you walked a few steps away, it was actually difficult to photograph them. 

The T Word

I can't believe my life is so dull that I am reduced to writing about tampons. I blame Tesco, which only stocks Tampax (aka not my brand) and their own brand. 

But seriously, have anyone seen these Tampax tampons with the "skirt"? What the hell is that about? I know I've only recently returned to the civilized world, but seriously: why does a tampon need a skirt? I don't see how this is really providing any extra protection. Can someone explain this to me? 

Ahhh, but regardless of efficacy, the marketing geniuses have been hard at work. The tagline for this nifty little invention is "Be brave, wear a skirt." Just... ewww. 

Perhaps they could apply some of their genius to proofreading, because the title of the UK website's home page is: The efortless Tampon. I know they spell things differently over here, but I believe "effortless" still has two Fs. 

Problem Child

My life's pretty dull right now, so all I really have to write about is my horse, who is behaving like a problem child of late. Yes, thankfully, Pintea has adjusted well to his new rather cushy life here in England, and after having his back adjusted by the equine chiropractor and his feet trimmed by the equine podiatrist, he is feelin' fine and full of life. 

So much so that he has devised some new entertainment for himself. Whenever one of the owners of the other horses in his field try to take their horses to the barn, Pintea rounds all the horses up and drives them to the farthest reaches of the field. He has even run at the owners and threatened to kick once or twice.

Though a gelding, Pintea has always been a bit of an alpha in the herd (Van attributes this to being gelded later than usual) and he can be very protective of his friends. But clearly this is just a game to him. He's a horse with a lot of personality and I'm sure it amuses him to make people run around the field. 

Van and I are of the opinion that if someone stood up to Pintea and gave him a good clout on the nose when he behaved like this, he would back down immediately. (Of course, he never does this when either of us around; he knows we wouldn't stand for it.) Unfortunately, the other owners seem unlikely to do this. One doesn't want to get a reputation at the barn, so the solution has been to keep Pintea in his box during the day and put him out to graze overnight. Apparently there are a couple other horses that are put out at night as well. It actually works out that he gets more grazing time and more of the field to himself, so it's not a bad situation for him. Fewer poo stains, more grass stains. 

In addition to what my friend Amy referred to as the "shittiest" (ha ha) exercise regime possible, we've been taking the boys out for daily rides to help build up their feet now that we're keeping them barefoot. Pintea was standing with his head out of his box when I arrived today. Finished with his hay? Or just knew it was about time for me to arrive? Though I'm hesitant to attribute his behavior to enthusiasm at the prospect of my arrival, he's probably getting used to the schedule. Oh and he had finished his hay. 

On our way back to the barn after about an hour's ride, we passed the field with Pintea's usual buddies in it and he stopped for a moment while they all came running over to the fence to see him. My horse has groupies! Who knew? If he's my problem child, at least he's most popular in the class. Now if we could just do something about the fighting. I hate those notes from the principal!

New Exercise Regime

Left to my own devices, I am quite a lazy, sedentary person. Without any sort of structure to my day, I've not made any progress in getting myself back into shape. But this week, I started a new exercise regime. Actually, it's a money-saving tactic as well. 

After my sticker shock at our livery bill for the two horses these first two months--because not only do you pay a flat monthly fee for the box for each of them, you then pay for the hay and straw, turning them out in the field, mucking out the stalls, etc. Anyway, the bills were quite a bit more than I was expecting, partly because I've never boarded horses before. So I suggested to the man that since we're not busy with, you know, jobs, why don't we do all the mucking out to save some money?

And then I decided that while the man is busy building his stallion back up after a bout of lameness and two weeks' box rest, I would do the mucking out for both horses. For the exercise. Et voila! My new exercise regime. 

I'm sure it's not enough, but I'm so out of shape that it leaves me sweaty, tired, and occasionally a bit out of breath, so I figure it's as good a place to start as any. 

A Nice Surprise

Today we had a beautiful bouquet of pink roses and peonies and a bottle of champagne delivered to us from the Oxfordshire Registration Office. A further apology for the mix up on Saturday that had left us (temporarily) with no registrar to marry us. 

Everyone in the Registration Office has been so apologetic and concerned. It's quite impressive. It's nice to be back in a country where people actually take their duties seriously and worry about doing a good job. 

Hitched

That's right. The day you (and I sometimes) thought would never come, has. On Saturday, in front of 15 friends and family, the man and I were married. Yep. He made an honest woman out of me. 

We kept the whole event small, low-key and stress free. There's a lot to be said for that. Particularly when you arrive at the registrar's office to find said office locked and the registrar AWOL. Yes, this is a story of getting hitched... with a hitch.

While our guests gathered in the sitting area of the ground floor library—which was rather smellier than necessary due to a particularly flatulent old man who was not with our party—the team of librarians knocked themselves out trying to track down the registrar (and apologizing for something that wasn't even their fault). After reaching the weekend emergency registrar, he was able to send the cavalry: not one, not two (two are required by law: one to do the paperwork and one to perform the ceremony), but three registrars showed up and we were able to get the ceremony underway with only an hour's delay. The staff and registrars were all surprised by how calm the man and I were about it all. But as several of our guests pointed out, it certainly made it memorable!

The ceremony itself was brief, but sweet, with the 10-year-old daughter of the man's cousin serving as our ring girl. She picked out her own outfit, which included a t-shirt with the word "love" written in several different fonts that she thought was appropriate for the occasion. My man looked quite handsome in his suit and tie. I was so proud to be with him and to become his wife. Our friends Mary and Paul served as witnesses and I had armed their two sons with disposable cameras to capture candid shots of the event. (They also had quite a bit of fun with my digital camera at the luncheon.) 

Following the ceremony we traveled the short distance to The Bear at Home pub where we had a delicious lunch with great conversation and lots of fun. There may have been some imbibing of alcoholic beverages.  

All in all it was a lovely day, made more special by having such great friends and family to celebrate with us. While I had some mixed emotions because on such short notice my friends and family in the U.S. could not attend, I look forward to having a celebratory event next year when we are more settled into our lives in England and can plan ahead and invite everyone.  

Oh and the superintendent of registrars phoned me today to apologize profusely for the mistake and she's refunding the fee for our wedding ceremony, as well as giving us an extra copy of the marriage license (which I need for permit paperwork) for free. So I really can't complain about the officials in the Oxfordshire government.