I Brushed My Horse

I brushed my horse and, if you know me well, you would realise that this is something I don’t do very often. Hardly ever actually.  A bit like cleaning the house.  It’s just not for me.

There was a good reason for this sudden rush of blood to the head.

I was already tacked up when Daisy arrived back from work, so I waited for her to fetch Taktur out of his field, tack him up and then we went out for a lovely Sunday afternoon ride together.

I even brushed Klængur’s “chrystanthemum” bottom and trimmed his tail as its winter and I hate tails trailing in the mud and being stepped on.  That must hurt.

However, I did not brush the dog.  That would be one step too far.

We were all slightly less beautiful upon our return.

A sudden rain shower on our way home.

After the ride, we moved the Old Men to their Winter field which is across the hill – 5 acre “Clothie”.

They all love this field and it is perfect for spending winter in, as long as it doesn’t turn to mud. Then life just gets depressing. I am not hopeful.

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