The dreary November weather has left us looking forward to Christmas. Ploughing through mud and getting soaked almost daily makes the prospect of this year’s festive season all the more cheering.

Ladies at the yard are putting their names on the board for the stables’ Christmas party, while other highlights include the Boxing Day hunt meet on Gargrave Village Green and Christmas Trail Rides at Craven Country Ride.

Daniel’s letter to Father Christmas would always be headed: “Deer Santa, Tuns o’ sacks o’ grub, please.” The little chap also reminds his family that the Season of Goodwill is essentially a holiday.

Baby’s Christmas list is largely to replace the things he has trampled and broken over the last 12 months. It suddenly became longer after he wrecked his stable last Tuesday – a disappointing descent into nuttiness just when we thought he was becoming more normal.

Jack arrived at the yard in the late afternoon to find the saddle rack smashed from the wall, the rug racks buckled and Baby’s green feed bucket bashed to smithereens.

“So what?” said Baby, blinking at the devastation. His mad amber eyes took in havoc that included Jenny’s new riding hat, booted about the box like a football.

Saturday saw him almost reverse into a kindly elderly lady who stopped in the lane to admire him.

“What a beautiful horse,” she said, before scurrying for cover as Baby went suddenly into reverse, almost crushing the lady and her spaniels.

On Sunday, he span violently in the lane on seeing an unusual hanging feed manger on the fence. Sophie was left clinging grimly round his neck as he gallumphed up the road.

Minutes earlier she had to gather him up and kick him on when he took exception to a steaming wall vent as he walked past a house near the canal.

Meanwhile, Daniel had a snorting fit after spotting an empty pizza box at the side of the lane. “It’d ’ave been all right wi’ the grub in it,” he said.

Hours later, Baby launched our friend Lisa across his stable, flinging her against his water bowl as she chatted to Steve about arrangements for the New Year’s Day hunt.

Perhaps the ginger giant was still upset after almost falling down on the lane the previous weekend. “Erk!” said Baby as his back legs slid from under him and he momentarily sat down after skidding on newly-laid Tarmac.

Daniel, whose appetite normally knows no bounds, has found some food he doesn’t like. Steve’s egg and mushroom sandwich rejected – apart from the bread. “Can I ’ave a loaf butty tomorrer?” said Daniel.