Over the stable door: Frustrations on flowering ragwort front

It is poisonous to most livestock and wild animals, including hares and deer. Once eaten the toxins destroy the liver and by the time symptoms become evident 75 per cent is maybe damaged, causing certain death to the sufferer.

The only efficient way to dispose of ragwort is to pull it up by the root before flowering begins, or by spraying it.

Unfortunately father's grazing pastures border much of the roadside verges owned by Bradford Council and last year we had to pester them to get the ragwort removed. By the time the council workers arrived it was August, the plants had flowered and germinated.

I drove past the guys hard at work on their first day and nearly crashed the car when I noticed them mowing down the plant with garden strimmers. I chuntered crossly, impulsively spinning the car round. The Jack Russell landed in the footwell for the second time in five minutes.

I pulled up beside an employee and beamed at him. "I don't suppose you'd fancy pulling it up instead would you? Otherwise it'll grow back twice as thick next time." He gave me an empty stare.

"Just doing what we told to by our boss. Anyway it's too hard to pull it." I took a deep breath. The dog withdrew to the back seat as I hurtled home, intent on trying to get sense from the council.

After numerous days of badgering, I got a reply passed through a secretary and not open for discussion. It went as follows. Pulling up ragwort would entail closing the roads or erecting traffic lights for health and safety reasons, causing unnecessary disruption and they were already six weeks behind schedule.

Wasting public funds and resources through ignorance seems in keeping with the last 10 years of policy making. Maybe we should turn the tables this year and enforce the 2003 Ragwort Control Law upon the institution that is meant to enforce it.

On the racing front, Winged Farasi has had a hard time recently. Two falls chasing has put him in bad fettle and subsequent balloting out of races has not helped me to restore his confidence. Left with little option but to pull my boots from the closet, I entered the Ladies Race at Pontefract, not expecting to get in. We were virtually bottom weight, but firm ground meant the race cut up and suddenly I had six pounds to shed in two days.

It was a task made harder by the sociable weekend I had planned. Between jogging, sweating in hot baths and riding work, I had been invited to a luncheon party courtesy of Chris Richardson from Brandsburton, a Hunt Ball (I avoided food but not alcohol) and a polo match.

Monday morning with no breakfast saw me hit the nine stone barrier feeling ropey. Fortunately Winged Farasi seemed happier than his jockey and rewarded his supporters with 2nd at 25-1.

n Jo Foster trains horses at Brookleigh Farm, Menston.