We all know the story, hope flew out of the box last. Usually this is taken as a sign that hope was sent to mitigate the evils of the world. It can also be interpreted that hope is the cruelest gift.
Zeus did not wish man, however much he might be tormented by the other evils, to fling away his life, but to go on letting himself be tormented again and again. Therefore he gives Man hope,- in reality it is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torments of Man.
Meanwhile, out on the real world, when Mathilda grazes, Rodney slips into her pen to finish the hay leftovers. If we are grazing around twilight, he will come charging back out, running & bucking & crow-hopping. Over the weekend, he had a particularly frolicsome exit. Reporting this to Hubby prompted a conversation wherein I articulated one of the underlying principles of this head-meet-wall madness.
If Rodney ever gets sorted out, he has the potential for a competitive record that would make it all worthwhile. Yes, all of the frustration, the tears, the time not riding could be washed away in a cascade of blue ribbons subsequent to outrageous displays of horse/rider harmony. He’s that nice. Plus – outside of the mind-numbing panic attacks – we are that well suited.
If he were a horse with less promise, by now we would have reach a stable parking orbit and I would have moved on to other things. Yet I keep trying. I keep chasing phantoms of victory gallops. Whether this is a good thing or a bad thing, only time will tell.
Just now, Rodney is taking a break from his busy schedule. He scored a minor bump on an ankle where he kicked himself. When he gets to flinging himself about, he often forgets to keep track of his feet.
What think you: hope – gift or curse?
The people have spoken: more gratuitous kitten photos!