|Not riding, no thank you|
I've gradually been getting more and more exhausted and have now reached the point where I'm driving along and have no idea where I'm going, whether the dog is with me or not and how I'm going to remember important details such as this.
The final straw came on Wednesday when when we rode out in a gale. On bin day. Cue battling down the road on two brave tbs who had no clue what to make of it while wheelie bins and massive chunks of rubbish blew at us like a special effects hurricane.
|More windy than this|
At one point the wind was so strong we were doing a stationary trot. Lots of effort but no forward movement. And my personal highlight was feeling the heat from the tyres of the van driver who forced his way past me while horsey shit his pants at a workman with some vast noisy machine surrounded by yet more bins and rubbish.
But things are looking up. Last night we were woken at 2am by Nancy howling to get out and lay some explosive diarrhoea all over the joint. As she scampered around me crying and the unpleasant fumes reached my nostrils I looked up at the ghostly moon, wiped the sleep from my eyes and realised the wind had dropped.
Rodney and I are going to a flatwork rally on Sunday and the same day we move to a new yard much closer to home. Nothing is organised, I haven't ridden in ages and I'm pretty sure Rodney will enter the meltdown zone when he realises that Home Sweet Home has become Random Stable and Random Field.
I'm sure it will all be fine eventually, but I must remember not to stab myself in the eye with a biro in the meantime.
Happy horsing everyone x