Docking Farms

 

GOOD MORNING!!!!!

Hope you will enjoy a wonderful day.  On to the story…

As Daddy (still like to say Daddy) approached retirement he decided it was time to invest in some land.  With Hilary’s passion for horses, Dad found this property which we use to call the “Oh s**t” house because when we arrived at the bottom of the 1/4 mile driveway the entire family drew in their breath and mumbled “Oh s**t.  I am using the real words although they are swear words, but that is what actually happened.  The house was truly magnificent.  The house somewhat resembled Tara from Gone with the Wind.  Amazing windows draped in velvet, a huge staircase and a 3rd floor loft which I always wanted claim to LOL.  Dad expanded the barn to include more stalls (for a total of approx 25), indoor arena to practice and so on.

The property sat on 100 beautiful rolling acres.  Dad decided to build a pond.  So in came in the contractors and Hugh’s island was born complete with a little island in the middle for those brave enough to swim to it.  It was stocked with rainbow trout.  Dad really started to see himself as a country gentleman – a 90’s version of Eddie Arnold and Green Acres.  In reality it was Hilary who managed and ran the horse component.  Dad would drive everyday from Ballinafad, Georgetown to his position at Clarks.  It was the weekends we had to watch out for because Hugh was on the loose at the farm!!!!!  (We refer to Dad as Hugh or Huge at times as his nickname lol – because everything he did was big)

The reason it was called Docking Farms – well that was another of Dad’s infamous projects.   He researched the family tree and discovered that our family originally came from Docking, Norfolk, England.  My Dad was a very smart man (daughters are allowed to say that, so was my Mom).

I smile with warm memories as I recall some of my dear father’s antics.  His favourite role was driving his John Deere tractor – here is what he did.  Dad would slowly move one large rock to another rock pile.  This was an intense activity for the new Eddie Arnold and one he did with great pride over and over.   He would do this for hours!  Often it was Dad who got the tractor stuck in the mud.  Or he would pile us in his lincoln with wine in silver goblets and drive to the top of the hill, listening to his music blaring and stare at the land.  Upon reflection, my Dad was very proud of his achievements and this was his way of admiring his hard, hard, work.

Mom nor I, did not adjust as well to the farm.  She and I both still wanted to live in the suburbs.  It took some time to adapt being out in the open – one day I stuck my head out the window (this was when we were in the bathroom hiding from the bat – see sisters blog) and screamed we need help.  Hilary replied to me, “no one can hear you silly” to which I replied “Yes, obviously, but it made me feel better.” lol.

One of the conditions on buying the property was the continuation of the annual fox hunt (don’t freak out they didn’t use real foxes).  It was the most magnificent scene I have ever witnessed – 60 horses on the driveway, riders wearing the official hunt uniform drinking a glass of sherry before heading out.  Just like from Doughtown Abbey!  Once the hunt left you could stand and watch this beautiful formation of horses galloping up and over hills, jumping fences.  One woman actually rode side saddle.  Of course  Huge loved it and decided it would be a great party for their friends – and it was.  There were about 50 people watching the hunt, enjoying the bbq and it was a great day.  At the conclusion of today’s blog I will post a photo of Hilary at the hunt.

Have you ever had a horse in your family room?  Well I can answer yes!!!! It was Christmas day and Hilary was down at the barn and decided to bring Missy -the horse up to the sliding door window – well she took it one step further and brought the horse in the house – you had to be there!  A horse and an artificial Christmas tree – new combination.

During the Mississauga train derailment our house was full of friends and family staying as they had no where to go.   That turned out to be a party for the kids and the adults.   Despite the seriousness of the situation my Mom had the ability to entertain and entertain properly – she taught me many things and this was one of them.

I wasn’t meant for the country – but I tried.  We had an original early 1800’s barn on the property and on weekends home from university I would put on my work boots and push the wheelbarrow down the long driveway to the old barn to look for artifacts.  I didn’t know what the heck I was doing but it felt authentic and I looked the part especially with the bandana tied around my head LOL

Well one morning we woke up and someone looked out the window and screamed the barn is on fire!!!!! Full of panic we thought it was the barn with the horses.  Everyone jumped into action.  Sadly it was the historic barn – fire started by a 12 year old boy from the village.  You don’t think – I kept expecting the fire department to arrive – but they couldn’t find us.  The fire started to spread along the grass and up the fence to the working barn – time was not on our side.  Finally the fire department arrived (but silly Mom and I)  couldn’t understand why they had to leave in the middle of a fire – they had to get more water because of course (slap myself on the head) there are not any fire hydrants in the country.  So trucks showed up with drums of water.  Finally the fire was put out, no injuries thank God.  It was terribly sad to see the old barn and reinforced the fear of fire.

Don’t lose power in the country.  A massive snowstorm hit and there was zero visibility – Dad insisted he was going to work.  Hil just sat there shaking her head.  Ten minutes later in walked Dad sheepishly.  Then the power went.  Well city people assume you will have water and lights. Without water for 3 days and cooked over the fire.  Mom said it reminded her of wartime.  I thought I was in hell lol  Couldn’t wait for the weather to clear so I could zip back to university and society LOL

I will also post a photo of all of the cousins on my Dad’s side with my dearest Grandmother (Dad’s Mom).  Miss her dearly xoxoxoxoxo

Speaking of my Grandmother, here is another story.  When Dad went to Europe we always had field parties way back on the acreage.   Friends would bring tents and sleep the night.  Hilary and I both had been up all night and had not slept but she had to feed the horses first before going in for tea with Grandmother.  When I slid open the sliding door I could hear my Grandmother exclaiming “Where have you been young lady?  You can’t pull the wool over my eyes!!!!!”  Hilary was in hysterics because she had done the same thing, but the horses served as a smokescreen and she was excused!!

Finally my last piece of evidence that I do not belong in the country.  Every year the hay must be baled and brought in for storage – it is called haying.  You ride on the flatbed of a tractor and throw the bales of hay up on the wagon.  Okay I could do that but wasn’t very fast.  So I stayed on the trailer and helped organize the hay – the next thing I knew I was lying in the field watching the tractor coming my way!!!!!  I had slipped and fell off the trailer into the hayfield with straw scratching me and sticking in my skin.  Proof positive – do not put Susan in the country for extended periods of time!!!!  Over and out for today xo