Ditzes in ditches


I spent the better part of the morning of Tuesday 8th September languishing in a deep, sandy ditch. Ten days on, I’m just beginning to see the funny side:  ‘Last Tuesday firemen were urgently called into the middle of absolutely nowhere to save an ‘anglaise’ who had forgotten to apply superglue to her saddle that morning. Her young horse, having been scared witless by a lifting pheasant, took off home at a flat-out gallop, but not before finding the time to rear up, swerve and plunge into a nearby ditch where he unscrupulously deposited his rider.’

My compliments to the firemen who fulfil the role of paramedics in rural France, because just finding me was a challenge in itself; ‘I’m in a ditch next to a cornfield’ is really quite unhelpful when you are surrounded by hundreds of square kilometres of ditches and cornfields. Strangely enough, I spent my time waiting for them to arrive fretting about sunburn, my abandoned breakfast dishes and all the other things I should have been doing had I not been skiving off 2m under. Although totally unable to move, I wasn’t particularly uncomfortable (apart from an irritating mouthful of sand) and it never occurred to me that once I’d been hauled out I wouldn’t be walking back home to make a late lunch.

Arriving at Emergency, the doctor’s first words were ‘bloody horses – they should all be turned into mincemeat’, which I though was a rather insensitive thing to say to a horse lover like me. I’m now at home with four broken vertebrae and exceedingly impressive multicolour bruising. I had a lucky escape thanks to my airbag vest, which did a pretty good job of protecting my upper body. I’m pleased to say that my voice escaped unscathed and is getting lots of exercise barking orders at anyone crazy enough to stay within hearing distance.

18 responses to “Ditzes in ditches

  1. OMG wow, you are lucky to just have those injuries. Hope you heal completely and quickly and get lots of help around the house. Glad the voice is unscathed. How is the horse? Are Hugo and Java attending to you, giving lots of sympathy and love?

  2. Luckily your crazy cool sense of humour escaped unscathed! I hope you were wearing matching underwear !!!

  3. I can only imagine your comments directed at the receding horse derriere, when you were able to collect your thoughts. I did not know riders could wear a vest with such protective capabilities and it is fortuitous that you are smart enough to wear one. Here’s to your swift recovery.

    • You’re absolutely right; the air was blue! I’ve been riding with a protective vest since deciding that broken ribs, a broken coccyx, 8 broken fingers, a broken collarbone and broken toes were breaks enough. Having said that, the vest fills with air with such immense force that that alone could break your ribs I think, or bruise them at the very least… Hope you’re well. F

  4. love reading your silly stories and wait for them to arrive…. so glad your sense of humor is back. Do take care… gives me cause to not take up riding again.

    • Thank you Joyce Rebecca! Riding is such a wonderful sport, but you’re never completely safe from accidents. The worst thing is that even though he’s young, the horse I was riding was actually our calmest. It just shows that you can’t anticipate these things…

  5. Wow, that was an incredibly close call. Incredible also that you have teased some humour from a near-tragic situation. Take care and speedy healing to you. I take it you had your phone on you?

  6. I just opened my Reader, not having done so for a very long while and was very sorry to read about your ‘Dive.’ Brave girl, these unexpected things give one a huge jolt to the system! Love the sketch, it describes it perfectly! Wishing you a speedy recovery and thank goodness for the vest and the telephone, not to mention the French Medics!

  7. Oh my goodness… That sounds painful! Hope you are feeling a little better. Wish you a speedy recovery!

  8. Pingback: Coconut fish curry and a very analytical horse | The Healthy Epicurean

  9. Pingback: Whisky and ginger marmelade and indigestible books | The Healthy Epicurean

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