The husband snapped this great picture tonight just when Emilie had walked over to me to request an elbow scritching. I absolutely love it.
I’m So Funneh
Cleared out the pile of old and older pictures today. I did things with them. These are the things I did with them. Feel free to steal for your own nefarious uses.
Stopping to Smell the Ponies
Yesterday was the first proper spring day of the year, the first day where the sun had power enough that you could feel its warmth through your clothing. You could even shed the outer layers of that clothing if you were doing something to keep you warm — such as, say, riding a horse. And that’s what we did.
There is no sensation that compares to sitting on an energetic, happy horse that wants to walk faster, see everything, smell everything, and eat everything. Horses don’t walk on the first spring day — they poing like excited weasels. Even 26-year-old arthritic draft horses like Logan. Poing, poing, poing.
Simple pleasures in life: The clear blue sky overhead, little grey Cassie pawing at the water in excitement, and Logan walking briskly ahead with not the slightest trace of a limp.