Saturday's Ride

A light rain/mist, or spit from heaven is falling and there is a slow glowing fire in the stove. Time to do a new post. This once a week post thing was supposed to improve the quality of posts and stop my mind from thinking in blog. It has accomplished the second, but when you stop thinking blog, then you just kind of lose it. If you know what I mean. Also, not having the hubby involved really somehow lessens it all. It is just not as much fun and the quality suffers; both in wit and grammar. (Like should that just have been a semi colon, comma or just its own sentence). Oh well, maybe next year he will grace these pages again.

This post is supposed to be entitled, "The Bella Diaries", chronicling our daughter's dog's visit to the ranch. But that will have to wait. I can tell you though that it is rated PG 13 due to some violent images.Instead, it will be another post about riding. Have you figured out yet, that I love horses! Here is the herd. I am no longer counting. So don't you either. I will add that 4 are not mine. But that still leaves an awful lot, and this photo doesn't even show all of them! Now that I have them all turned out on the ranch, I call them the "Brombies". Or is it "Brumbies? Anyone know where that reference comes from? Anyone care?This photo shows how to capture handsome head shots of your horse. Johanna is optional, something to shake is not.

Here is the handsome head shot of Shy-Anne. (Eric the Bold's horse...NOT mine). Her head wouldn't really be considered beautiful, but somehow it always seems so to me. BTW- this horse is half billy goat. She can go ANYWHERE, and she does so with verve. (See I can use unusual words even without the hubby).

After grooming all the Brombies, we pick a few, saddle up and take off. A beautiful sunny, now cloudy, now mysterious kind of day.
Off the road now we head up a draw. The quiet fall surrounds us. No wind noise here. The earth smells rich and musty. We are quiet. A silhouette shot. Wait is that princess Pocahontas or is she just waving her hand around in the air? Perhaps she has a bee in her bonnet. Along the ridge we had a dramatic change in climate with wind blowing and the fog flowing. Jo decided to try and fly, I think. Donkeys in the mist. Macho ain't named "macho' for nothin. He tried to work his moves on us, but we weren't having it, I tell ya. Evening came quick and we headed back. Another beautiful ride in paradise. Of course, you aren't really done until the fat lady sings. Or perhaps the skinny lady! Sequoyah wasn't quite sure he liked the song, but he did wait around to listen.
The end.
(Post Script: Isn't it pathetic that I have ended so many posts this way?)