Ruby and Mr T are out in the small paddock. It's all they've been permitted to use, since the keep for the neighbour's sheep was getting short on the main fields, and they pay the rent.

Ruby has her blue weatherproof sheet on, and Mr T, who doesn't have much fat on his ribs these days, has an old stable rug under his waterproof and a smug smile on his little grey-flecked face. He is due his day of rest because he's worked all week with me, getting everything right to go to Skelton show yesterday.

I've pretty well decided that I am not going to "do" showing any more - getting it all cleaned, assembled and loaded exhausted me by Friday. But, having done all the work, and having stated that we were only going in order to get the judge's signature on the BDS form and not to win, I was able to enjoy just being at the show and nattering to people as I got ready for the class at lunchtime.

Mr T loved it - party time in a nice grass field, what's not to like? He heard a whinny once or twice that sounded like Ruby's best "girly" voice, and so he shouted back, but after that he took no notice until another Fell pony appeared in harness. (They are racists - they don't recognise any other breeds.) Mike, a local driver who has lessons with Jen, was grooming for me. He came early and collected our number from the Secretary's tent, which couldn't really have been much further away from our allocated parking area ... He returned looking as though he'd been on an expedition so I quoted at him, "I may be some time."

It's the first time I've been to this show in about 10 years and the show ground is half as big again as it was then; a very good thing, as after the last visit, when we'd had nowhere to work-in and I'd sprained an ankle in a sun-hardened " cow pothole" as I stepped down off the horsebox ramp, I'd sworn I wouldn't enter again. But there was lots of room this year! The driving "ring" was being used by people to warm up for other ridden classes and so we could use that, as well as the rest of the huge field. Also the drive out wasn't on hard roads but marked out round the top of the fields, so Mr T had great fun telling me that he was really a racehorse and could out-trot them all, especially down that hill where they were all tippytoeing along, why wouldn't I let him race them? But he's such a sweetie, when I told him to settle down he did.

In the main ring, when we went in for the presentation of rosettes, things were a bit confused! they had the driving horses, the Cumberland Wrestling, and some dairy cattle all in together. Mr T wasn't bothered by the wrestlers, but the very large cow that brayed (rather than mooing) puzzled him immensely and he kept sidling up to Mike for reassurance as he peered round his blinkers at her.

Mike really enjoyed the day and at one point said as he sat beside me in the carriage, "Who'd have thought I'd ever be in a show class at Skelton Show?" I had to point out it was really not all that big a deal :-) But, it was nice that we were all having fun, unlike the chap who had parked right next to the ring entrance. He had a spindle back governess cart, a grey Welsh pony, three children (possibly grand-children) and his spouse... he swore at wife, kids and pony indiscriminately while preparing for the class. I wasn't the only person who'd noticed some dangerous points about his setup which made his pony's life difficult; it expressed its discomfort mainly by jibbing but I wouldn't have been surprised if it had decided to run away, and he obviously thought so to, judging by the way he sat forward over the edge of the bodywork and drove with his hands nearly on its rump. There was a lot of unsafe practice in putting to and taking out as well. I had been thinking of going over to have a chat with him once I'd packed all our gear back into the horsebox (well, I'd talked to everybody else), but he was clearly a very angry person and his temper hadn't improved by being justifiably placed last in his class... he was still swearing at the kids as he left. So I just I waved as he passed, and he grimaced and sketched a wave back. I wondered what kind of a life the family and pony have when they are not on a show field.

Meanwhile Mr T, wrapped in a fleecy rug against the chill breeze, slurped happily through his feed of soaked sugarbeet and fibre nuts, and when it was time to load he walked into the horsebox and hardly made a sound all the way home.

As Mike said of Mr T when we were unharnessing after the class, "Don't you wish they were all like this!" It was the understatement of the day.