“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, …”
Much beer was had this weekend. I giggled up banks and face-planted on manes; sailed over logs and stared down at a dead-stop at large coops.
The fine movements of dressage were peppered oh-so-generously with curse words as I pony-club kicked and held on for spooks.
There were moments of pure courage as we galloped our course, and just as many moments of cowardice as I steered wonder pony around large benches without even attempting them.
I learnt I am not so graceful coming down banks, or hanging on for those dead-stop to deer leap-style jumps, but I can kick on and try again, and enjoy a hard day because of great friends to share it with.
So much to learn, experience to gain, alcohol to purchase.
We will keep showing up, taking the leap, holding on for the stop, and smiling through the finish line because of that feeling out on course. It is irreplaceable.