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Dancer’s plain but pretty.

I set a goal for myself to work the horses fifty-two times this year. I admit I have a bad habit of keeping horses in the backyard, thinking I’ll just get everything done on my to do list done before I go out and enjoy the my big, beautiful equines. We all know how that goes though: by eight thirty at night when the girls are in bed, I’ve done all the chores I can muster for the day, it’s dark and I’m tired and I still didn’t go out and work the horses.

After several reminders, she remembered that she does not get to stand by me with her head straight up.

So, I figured if I averaged once a week, it’d be a good start. It’d be about twice the number of times I worked them last year and surely I can afford a hour every week to enjoy something that most people can’t. They’re in my back yard for crying out loud!

Dancer enjoys her grooming.

I started today. Dance was my victim partner and with the springlike weather, she was feisty and wide-eyed, like she was going to gallop off any minute in search of a herd of wild mustangs. Our workout today included a good grooming, reminding her who’s the boss, to walk with her head lower than mine (a dominance thing among horses) and how to turn, respond to aides and stand while being tied. It wasn’t the most rigorous session with her I’ve ever had but it’s always good to start slow when it’s obvious she’s all but forgotten everything she ever learned.

One down, fifty-one to go.

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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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