Sunday didn’t work out like I planned. We had a date to ride with the neighborhood cowboys. But telephone line issues and pasture mowers both wanted to work when we wanted to play. We hadn’t met these folks yet but had heard that they have imaginary names for their cowboy personas. And they wear pearl-handled handguns along with all their cowboy giddy up. Only in Kentucky.
But, there is redemption packaged in a perfect day. And it was a glorious day in the hood. (I didn’t name it that, I’ve been told welcome to the hood by two well known inhabitants of well the “hood”). So after work the plan was to get saddled up by five and be on the trail by 5:30. We were and we did.
Eadon, my trail horse who I rescued from a dealer earlier this year, was wonderful this evening. She’s getting the opening the big gate gig, she side passes and backs while I lean into the gate and unhook the chain. And we can open the gate then shut it and hook it. She works on a loose rein and keeps a steady pace rather than speeding up and slowing down without my direction. She looks at things, which I find amusing. With all my years with horses that we want to look, this quarter horse mare looks, and probably puts her head and neck in a place that the quarter folks would find awful, but she doesn’t go anywhere. So I don’t care.
We rode over the property where my studio will be located, we’re closing on the end of the month. Nice to see it from the back of a horse.