Goodnight

Tessa Waugh is mortified to commit a faux pas at the weekly trip to the supermarket, while young Jack is in no rush to leave the comfort of the lead-rein as Pony Club rallies start up again

Tessa Waugh’s hunting diary

THIS week’s trip to the supermarket was an odd one. There I was, innocently (or so I thought) roaming the aisles, when I noticed the other shoppers behaving strangely. As I rounded the corner by the tinned veg, an old couple were huddled together and tutting theatrically at each other. Further on, in the biscuit aisle, a young girl stole a glance at my face and turned away in shock, as if it harboured something obscene. Others were veering off with their trolleys as I came in sight. Still, I didn’t get it, so I carried on finding the items and shoving them in the trolley.

It wasn’t until a voice came over the tannoy, telling all customers that they must wear masks, that the penny finally dropped and

I put hand to face to find, horror of horrors, bare skin. It was like one of those stress dreams where you turn up at a party and realise that you aren’t wearing any clothes. The children were tittering uncontrollably as, suitably chastened, I pressed a smelly glove to my face and carried on. No one gave me a second glance after that – such is the changed world that we now live in.

AT least we are getting going with Pony Club again. Our branch has started as it means to go on with a whole heap of activities to compensate for all that was missed last year. There is a big appetite for this, and the first rally was full of eager young riders – as far as is possible within the guidelines. “Forty-three members here today,” announced our district commissioner, Julia. Which is huge for us. I hadn’t seen some of the children for two years. Babies in pushchairs are now toddlers on plodalongs. There was a smattering of new members and new ponies.

“If nothing else this will boost my step count, I thought dully, as I plodded along

beside Sally”

Jack, aged seven, is no longer one of the youngest. Everyone is growing up.

While the children did circles, mums greeted each other from afar with happy “hellos”. It was freezing cold but wonderful to be together again. Sadly, Jack wasn’t feeling so cheerful as I plonked him on Sally – he is sharing Mary’s pony until we get a replacement for Josh.

“I only want to walk,” he said. “Not trot or jump.”

“We’ll see,” I said, doing a great impression of the clenched teeth emoji as we joined the procession of tots who have graduated off the leading rein.

If nothing else this will boost my step count, I thought dully, as I plodded along beside Sally. In the ring next door, Alec did relaxed rounds of fences with his new pony, Izzy. This may be torture for now, I reminded myself, looking at Jack’s pensive face, but if we get to that – looking over at Alec – we’ll be doing OK.