OH GOD SO MANY PONIES.
(Yes, well spotted, that is actually the same pony twice. She was the most sociable, or possibly "aggressive" might be more accurate. Do not hurt me, pony, I have more apple)
When I woke up in my treehouse nest this morning and looked out of the window to realise that there about thirty short, fat, hairy, muddy ponies milling about, it was almost eery, as if someone had peeped into my soul to see precisely what it most wanted and needed.
"Ms Beddington? Here are the ponies you cosmically ordered. They come with 20°C and a pain au chocolat. Have a nice day".
DAMMIT. I should have ordered a book deal. Or a job. Or yes, world peace, whatever. But the ponies were pretty good.
You may note that behind this pony I am bribing to get into my handbag with an apple whilst still in my dressing gown due to over-excitement, there is an ACTUAL SHORT FAT PONY FOAL.
(Enough pony pictures, Ed).
Here's the treehouse balcony:
And here's the view from the treehouse:
(I can still see a pony, Ed)
It was all gorgeous, and indeed, even without p****s, it would have been gorgeous. I haven't taken any pictures of the inside due to incompetence, but it was pretty and luxurious and comfortable with hot water and electricity and a coffee machine and you forgot you were in a tree until bluetits started pecking at your breakfast; Rich? Like equines and nature and so on? Live anywhere near, er, Brabant Wallon? Do go, it's beautiful.
I do not think the Treehouse Experience was a particular boost to the whole health thing, since there was lots of lovely booze, and a lot of those peculiar purple crisps, but I did trial ('trial'. Get me. 'Place over my vile kapok bark face, with tipsy abandon' would be more accurate) this overnight face mask which I actually thought was pretty decent: lovely scent, quite softening. I would use again (incidentally, I have - obviously - not been paid to mention any products I have been using in this half-arsed health kick, but most of them came free in one way or another, accumulated over the last few years. If I bought this stuff I would no longer be able to afford, eg. water and electricity. I bought my own Tom Ford Flamingo lipstick though, because I am 87% brain dead. Soon I will run out of free stuff lurking in the bathroom cupboard and will be back to eg. chip fat and Nivea).
How do I look? Like a piece of kapok bark blissed out on pony endorphins.