I'm the wrong end of my forties to be picking the sand from the menage out of teeth and rubbing arnica gel into bruises once a month but as happens with these things one is too frequently still compelled to act against the wise direction of common sense. I have explored this is my mind and am relatively sure it is not a mid-life crisis and so am determined to proceed.
Ernie forever represents the now to me - in his company I have no past and no future (the latter being particularly ironic given his young age and my inexperience!). In this state I am never more young or old than I feel on the day. Let it always be thus.
Thinking back to whether I should purchase him, I wrestled with a number of self-depricating counter arguments: am I worthy of him? Am I capable of developing his inate talent? Am I just flattering myself? But who cares, I asked for a price on him. Someone suggests he could be brought-on to hunt, my heart sinks, more challenges! A couple of google searches later and I now quite concerned about what this means following images of bold irish draughts vaulting hedge-rows that look to be twice their size. I am hoping that perhaps sometimes the camera does lie!
So my riding experiences are chequered and go back about 8 years, having started with children - more reflections here will follow I'm sure. We all stopped for various reasons, but after nearly 3 years out a regular saddle, I find myself once again mounted, this time alone!
Once more into the jodphurs dear readers! So sit deep, nudge gently and trot on.
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