Hello my new friends, and hello again my old friends. While I’ve been away, thousands of people have visited my blog but I’ve missed writing about riding and horses and discussing the same with my internet friends.
The stated reason for my absence was my Yankee-Irish horsewhispering boyfriend’s torn rotator cuff, which made our lives, as my GPS says to me on occasion, “Make a sharp right turn” (it says so in an Australian accent, since I can’t stand the American one).
Sharp turns, in traffic or in life, often involve a change of direction, and that’s what happened this summer. Of course, as every rider knows, when we change one thing, we change a lot more than one thing.
Projects were abandoned midstream. Necessities became options. The line of the undone stretched on like a depression breadline. My YIHB tried to speed up his recovery and I tried to fill his boots. The timing couldn’t have been worse, as we simultaneously increased the number of horses we care for. A promise is a promise, though, and we’d made a promise to a dear friend and client, whose horse is now a happy member of the little herd.
The good news is that my YIHB is a month ahead of schedule in his recovery, according to his physical therapist. I’ve been able to use my grass ring virtually every day, the dry weather blessing me as the new horse develops under saddle and in hand. I’m nearly strong enough now, just a year after breaking my back, to carry two full water buckets.
Any farmer — even a horse farm-er — knows how hard it is to get away. Our last vacation was eight years ago, but we broke the spell last week and went camping at the beach. It was glorious. How lucky I am that I have an exceptional farm sitter — one of my old hunter-jumper trainers who is now retired. He can handle any horse and knows how to handle any emergency, so I actually spent a week not thinking at all about horses. It was surprisingly enjoyable and nearly as enjoyable as seeing the horses again when I returned.
I hope I’ll be able to spend more time with you now, too.