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With the easing of the equine flu restrictions in Australia, Barry and Rosemary were at last able to voyage up to the Hunter Valley and visit Rosmarino (Rosie) and her progeny at Brooklyn Lodge. Rosie and her last year's foal, Basil, came in for a share of the attention ... but, needless to say, the latest addition to the family, little Peggy (by Fusaichi Pegasus) was the most photographed girl on the block. She is much admired by those who have knowledge, so fingers crossed that she will grow up a bonny and speedy lass.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
My name is Mikie!
Hey World, Here I Am!
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A bitterly cold night in Canterbury, NZ. Three degrees, and showers of heavy rain.
So this, of course, had to be the night that Sally chose to give birth, under the pine trees, to her fourth son, a baby brother for General George, for Ned, and for one year-old Rose.
Our first Gerolstein foal of the year! Welcome, ummm... baby. (I guess he'll have a name by the end of the day!)
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A bitterly cold night in Canterbury, NZ. Three degrees, and showers of heavy rain.
So this, of course, had to be the night that Sally chose to give birth, under the pine trees, to her fourth son, a baby brother for General George, for Ned, and for one year-old Rose.
Our first Gerolstein foal of the year! Welcome, ummm... baby. (I guess he'll have a name by the end of the day!)
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Monday, November 5, 2007
The Queen holds court
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Hilary's Tree
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November the fourth is not only a significant date in my life. It is a significant one in the life of my friend, Jack, as well. November the fourth was the birthday of his late wife, Hilary.
It had been our intention, during his present visit to New Zealand and to Gerolstein, to plant a tree 'for Hilary', and today seemed the logical occasion to do it.
Jack, I and Laura (daughter of Marion Hue, see my French episodes) chose a healthy looking little elm, bred on the premises, and this afternoon Jack planted it in the centre of my rose garden, where Ian's ashes also lie.
November the fourth is not only a significant date in my life. It is a significant one in the life of my friend, Jack, as well. November the fourth was the birthday of his late wife, Hilary.
It had been our intention, during his present visit to New Zealand and to Gerolstein, to plant a tree 'for Hilary', and today seemed the logical occasion to do it.
Jack, I and Laura (daughter of Marion Hue, see my French episodes) chose a healthy looking little elm, bred on the premises, and this afternoon Jack planted it in the centre of my rose garden, where Ian's ashes also lie.