Game of Thrones…. I’m going in. What’s all the fuss about??

I mean, really. An author pens a story, some screenwriters adapt it, and the world goes mad!

Yesterday, after the first episode:-

Man of the Woods; “So, what’s it about?”

Me: “Well … seems there’s this sister and brother and their other brother – a dwarf – and they’re all a bit … interesting.. And in another kingdom there are five siblings; all children of the baddy from ‘Goldeneye’ but one isn’t the main mother’s actually although there’s a mystery surrounding that. There are five cute wolf cubs and some people with blue eyes in the woods. Oh … and the dragon eggs.”

MoW: “Right.”

The brother and sister with almost white hair must be important. Great contrast, obviously, with the dark (sort of Greek) people of the island across the ‘narrow sea’.

I’ve so got this.

We watched three episodes yesterday in the end and have become intrigued, I admit. I started quite liking the blonde Queen but now don’t trust her .. and as for that terrible twin of hers. He’s an arrogant ****.

The character of Tyrion Lannister is growing on me – I think he’s a sharp cookie.

We are going on a mass family holiday this Friday, to Cornwall but first I have a few horse rugs to process!

My daughter, now 21 (literally last Friday) accompanied me on my rug collection in Kermit. She hates dust and muck and the smell of horse wee, so this was a big deal for her. People have asked me in the past, when she was still a young teen, whether she would take over my rug-cleaning business and I’d laugh, “I doubt it!”.

Anyway it was nice to have her company. I barely see my son these days. He works along my father in law daily, tends to eat at their house for convenience (and they probably have better meal selection anyway because my mother in law is organised and has time to buy things like food).

He comes in to sleep and his 6’4″ self moves around the kitchen opening cupboards in a morning searching for something he’s not communicated to me that he’d like to see. As a modern farmer’s wife I was encouraged to work and bring in a contribution. Oddly enough, with a sole-trader business which somewhat took off faster than we anticipated in 2007, I can’t be in two places at once. And I struggle with the guilt that sometimes wafts around me like mist on an Arthur Conan-Doyle moor. I try and fight it, and the verbal tirade which can accompany it, leaving me feeling bereft of self worth. But I often don’t succeed.

On the plus side, we have our own ponds to play round. I even caught my first fish with the help of daughter’s boyfriend this weekend!

We plopped then back in the murky water each time and after washing my hands many times, I laid back and tried to read my book.

There were lots of distractions; the ever-changing sky, a notepad asking for more details to be added to the plot of another story idea, MoW coming to show me handfuls of maggots…. and then laughing when I legged it away from him. I don’t trust him.

He’s always been a practical joker.

This one time (at Band Camp) he grabbed a harvest spider while I was washing up and had my hands full. He pushed it down my shirt and I went nuts banging my chest in a panic. I was hyperventilating by the time I failed to undo the buttons and ripped the shirt from me instead. As the dead spider dropped to the kitchen floor and my eyes blazed up at him through the tears, he stayed still only for two seconds. Then he ran…