No one was more surprised than I when, after about six months of riding, I hadn’t written a word about it.
Not so much as a stickie bearing a scrawled notion.
One year on, and I’m organising my stories, about coming to riding late [laaaaaaaate], about going completely and totally horse-fecking-mental, about reading all that literature on the spiritual power of the horse and going ‘Hmmmm…’, about the uneasy truce between knee-jerk suspicion and the utter desire for it all to be true…
So the posts will wander round and round, a figure of eight starting with today, maybe, and yesterday, definitely.
It’s the antithesis of how I usually run things, but that’s horses for ya.