If you’re riding a horse, you’ve already won.
Awareness of the outside world. I have deliberately not followed the “plantation” brouhaha in eventing. I lack the bandwidth for horse-world drama at the moment. Respect your fellow humans. Change the name. Lose the mascot. Take down the statue. Move on.
We went somewhere!
Gasps of shock.
We took Rodney over to school at Falcon Hill Farm. Just like we used to do, back when we were normal people.
FHF was the last place we went before the world shut down. Literally. It was a Sunday in mid-March. Husband’s work was scheduled to close on Wednesday. As we were getting ready to leave FHF, he was notified that work was closing Monday, the next day. Everyone had one day to come in, get their lives arranged, and then go home. [Super Duper]
It was spooky.
It was six months ago.
The high point of this trip was cantering out of a line of tiny, tiny crossrails. (Ear pic recreated from the ground.)
After trotting over the first crossrail, Rodney picked up a calm, gentlemanly canter.
Horse: I think we should canter this.
Horse: Yeah. I’m good.
Rider: Okay, your call, dude. (ohcrapohcrapohcrap)
Horse: Dum-de-dum, dum-de-dum, DUM, dum-de-dum.
Cantered quietly in. Cantered quietly over. Cantered quietly away.
Good boy! Go find your header.
I think … possibly … Rodney wants me to be a diligent but high-level manager. He wants me up there doing rider things, while he’s down there doing horse things. If I ask for too much too soon, he feels rushed. He fears the worst and responds accordingly. If I leave him alone to give him space, he sees that as dereliction of my duties. He sees no reason to do his job if I’m not up there doing mine. Maybe?
Stay safe. Stay sane.