I'm a lert.

"At least the field is plowed" was my first thought. "I don't want to walk all the way across this plowed field to the house" was my second thought. "Dammit, Oslo, you are NOT dumping me!" was the third one that set my determination and saved me a short flight and a long walk. I have been home for almost 3 days and have been putting off riding Oslo until I felt more alert. Evidently, I don't do jet lag well. I fell asleep at the high school football game last night and a neighbor took pity and drove me home. Thanks, Laura. But today, I feel a lot more like myself. We spent the morning stacking wood for our future winter warmth, and I didn't feel an involuntary nap coming on, so after driving my Middlest to the school for a Girl Scout event and a trip to the grocery, I stuck my courage to the sticking spot and saddled up the big black horse. He was grand, if jumpy for the first half mile or so, and then, WHOOSH! Into the air we go! Crowhopping madly across the cornfield. Land, jump, spin, up, land, up, over and over again. The legacy of Frost Fire means it takes hardly a second for me to get the head up - bucking prevention, get my shoulders back and legs on - balance and rearing protection and get mean. Fortunately, Oslo has the endurance of a warmblood, so eventually tires when I don't oblige with a tumble. Then, the real work begins, keeping light and firm and making him work his tushy off. Relaxed, but definitely alert. Naughty boy.



I didn't have a picture, but this is what it looked like.