Making the Call

Saying goodbye is never easy.  It is hard enough kissing our loved ones off in the morning, hoping that if the day goes well that we will see them again at dinner time.   Saying goodbye forever is a different ball game altogether, and sadly over the course of the last year and a half, I've had to do it 4 times.  In all incidences I have been involved in the individuals care and treatment plan, and I have had the responsibility, alongside professionals and family, in making that call.  The call that signifies the beginning of the end.  In the case of my Dad and brother, devastatingly nothing else medically could be offered and it was a slow, agonising (for us) period of days watching them reach peace.  With Tuff in January, and sadly this week Maite, the responsibility has been solely laid upon my shoulders, and quite frankly the enormity is soul destroying.

I feel like the Harbinger of Death.

Making the tough choices I know is part of being a steward of our animals lives, but the self doubt, the questioning, the bargaining for an alternative is desperate and paralysing.  No different to any loss I know, but with an animal there is no opportunity to ask them what is wrong, we find ourselves interpreting symptoms, behaviour, test results, and professional advice... and amidst the chaos of information overload, there are our own emotions.  The love we have for these living breathing partners with a soul.  A soul so giving they forge a partnership with us in the first place, and you question yourself even when the inevitable decision has been made, right up to the final moment ... and then your brain just crashes... and in your head there are silent screams of 'NO!' as you comfort your friend into the next stage of life......death...and are hopeful that with that transition, they are finally free.

For us however, that is when the pain begins.  Relief accompanies it, knowing we did the best we could and knowing that our loved ones, be they equine or human, knew love.

Peace? Well that's what they now have, and we can be hopeful we might have some too.

xx

Them v Us

Mahatma Gandhi — 'Be the change that you wish to see in the world.'

I've been reading a few blogs lately that have stuck in my mind.  One in particular has been shared far and wide with feverish joy.  It covers the judgemental and intrusive actions of other equestrians who feel the need to comment or misunderstand our style of horsemanship. On the surface I agree with this fellow blogger and I am in no way belittling what she has put out there, more power to her.  She is right when she questions why they don't come up and ask what we are doing, instead of mocking and admonishing others against the way of our practices.  Lord knows I've been subject to it over the years, and now have a galvanised s**t shield (patent pending) to most of it.

But....and there is a but.

People react to us this way through fear.  Fear of something they don't understand.  Something they'll never understand if we label them and close the door.  Yes, they can be utter wankpuffins (apologies re language, that's as tame as I can go) and bullies, but people as a species DO NOT LIKE CHANGE.

When they see something different that presents results that means they have to change something about themselves, well that's just too gosh darn hard.   They've spent years being told and taught that gadgets and domination work.  When someone or something shines a light on that and renders it flawed, it is far easier for that person to think that the someone/something is wrong, than challenge their own beliefs.

Change takes work.  Heck, this type of horsemanship takes real personal growth.  Not to mention the skills you need to learn to do it.  Some people are just too proud to step back and realise that after decades they may have to leave some of their old skills by the wayside and learn new ones.  Such as feel and timing.  This may come easy to some, but others may never get it in it's entirety.  The appeal of staying skilled and proficient in something they've always done, as opposed to learning something new that may make them vulnerable, is all too much sometimes.

We know this journey is exactly that, a journey.  Some days I look like I've never picked up a rope and flag in my life, others I look like a semi competent horsewoman.  I keep going for my horse, because as far as I am concerned, that's why we all do this, isn't it?

So let people make mistakes by judging us, needless to say don't let yourself be bullied, however smile, nod and keep going.  Your horse will do the talking for you.  Equally, labels are dangerous.  Curiosity is never going to be piqued if it's a Them v us Mentality.  There is dark and light in everyone.  Not everyone who waves a flag is a good horseman, and not everyone who uses a pessoa is a bad horseman.  They just don't know any different.

This above quote sums it up for me. 'Be the change that you wish to see in the world.' Be that change, but remember those who attack us do it because it's awoken something within them.  It's not about you.  Hard I know, when you are made to feel ridiculous or accused of being cruel.  We know we are neither.

Maite and I are moving yards soon.  Into the Lion's den.  A large competition yard with around 90 horses.  I'm pretty sure I may be the only flag waver and lariat thrower, but my shield is polished, without being defensive and I'm looking forward to seeing aspects of good horsemanship around me, instead of fearing the dark.

See you on the flip side xx

P.S..... Tuff passed away in January.  I can't bring myself to write about it yet.  I have lost my soulmate x

Goodbye old habits, hello New Year.

So this time last year I was still on a high after finding out I had a place at Buck's first UK clinic.  2015 yielded a myriad of experiences, both good and bad, in both my horsemanship and private life.  The funny thing about life is that even though we like to compartmentalise feelings, thoughts and experiences in our head, real life weaves them all in a rich and sometimes dark tapestry.  It's not until we stand back and reflect on the sum of years worth that we can completely appreciate our experiences.  How they shaped us and changed us.  How they solidified parts of our being and how they made us question ourselves to the core.  Sometimes this happens on a small scale, but it is no less important or significant.  Sometimes it happens on a scale so large, it blind sides you until you come out  the other side still smokin'!  That was my 2015, and the biggest thing I learned (and that Buck helped teach me) is my horsemanship and who I am is not separate.  I may divide up things in my head in order to organise my life and 'chunks' of what my feeble brain can cope with, but who I am is who my horse sees.  It doesn't matter what discipline you ride, what colour you are, what you had for breakfast... your horse knows who you are.  Now let me clarify something here, I don't mean what skills you have with your tools, timing etc (we're all works in progress) I also don't mean your horse thinks, 'oh well she had a bad day, I'll cut her some slack'.  No.  What I am referring to is your horse knows your intention, he knows down to the core of you who you are.  The species has had to be a very good judge in order to survive.  Sometimes seeing yourself through your horses eyes is a bitter pill to swallow.  Sometimes, your horse reflects back a potential version of you that you did not realise was there.... that is what both my horses have done to me this year, and I was oblivious.

First the mighty Tuff.  Through the fog of grief and despair he was nothing short of a true partner at the clinic.  I have wax lyrical about him in many a previous blog.  I assumed it was because of his good nature and being a pretty well broke horse that he stuck through it all with me, but on reflection I'm not convinced that is the case.  He can be very insecure and he needs you at times to step up when he becomes unsure... there was none of this at Aintree.  He was the very best version of himself and was willing me to meet him there.  Sounds batty I know, but he did.  I had fallen apart and he had stayed true, for me, he expected more from me.  Because, and I don't say this lightly, if he had fallen apart I would have crumbled and possibly never recovered.  My horse knows me, he knows the heart and soul of me I he knew I needed him to fill in for me and push me through it.   It's taken until now for me to realise that, and had it been in isolation I would have pessimistically brushed it off.... until Maite decided to make her feelings known.

Maite is a very confident mare and I have struggled internally as to whether I am good enough to own her.  Would she be better with someone more skilled, patient, more time etc.  This has been quite a battle for me.  This constant battle and feeling of not being good enough has marred my progress with her, and my building a relationship with her.  So, before I had my operation I was working her on the ground and bumping her up to the mounting block (as this needs some work).  She wasn't saddled as I had no intention of riding her that day, but I went through the motions of leaning over her, running my arm on her off side etc.  Now, even on a mounting block I am neither tall nor agile enough to bounce on to her back, but I was making enough commotion as if I was planning to mount to the point when Maite just turned her head and looked at me.   What she did next I decided no one would believe me if I told them... she then proceeded to slide her left fore forward, dropped her shoulder and looked at me again.  It was an invitation to get on with the expression of 'here you go, you getting on or what?'   That day changed our relationship.   We worked together right up until my operation, and then 14 weeks after my surgery I had a little ride, and I picked her up right where I left her at the end of the Summer.

Both my horses set the bar at where they see me, and expect me to be.  I have to meet them there.  It's not about me trusting them, it is all about me trusting myself, and this is a theme that runs through the entire fabric of my life.  Who I am is most definitely who I brought to the barn and my horses are helping me work through that and fulfil in my riding where I need to be.  As an instructor said to me once, 'Kate you have all the theory and knowledge up there, you just need to filter it down into your arms and legs'.  

My hurdles with my horsemanship have never been about my horses, they've been about me trusting myself all along.  What Tuff did was not let me project my emotions onto him.  That grief fuelled self destruct feeling that threatened to end my participation in the clinic.  What Buck did was point it out to me.  When I approached him and said I can't do this, my horse feels disconnected, Buck had a look at him and said, 'Well he looks alright to me'.   He was, he was fine, it was me...but I'm pretty sure Tuff and Buck knew that and they expected more.

So, my lovelies, my only resolution for 2016 is to BELIEVE.  Believe that despite all the bad, there is ultimately the good and our horses guide the way.  

I wish you all a happy and healthy 2016 and I hope to see you on the Road to Buck.

See you on the flip side xx

Character and chaos (or rather Tramadol, frustration and self assessment)

So, I was half way through writing my next blog whilst sat in the doctor's waiting room at the end of August, prior to some rather invasive (but necessary) surgery when I got distracted by the GP calling my name.  Then the snowball of organising my family, horses (and mental state) for the impending op, and subsequent weeks of inability took over.  No bother, I foolishly thought, I shall whimsically write my blogs and remaining clinic notes in hospital and while I recover.  Wrong!  You think as an ex-nurse I'd have a clue that I would feel like I'd been battered by Thor's hammer (no pun intended!)  apparently not.  I felt so awful I did not even want wine.  This is unheard of, even after hours in labour, giving birth (and a c-section) I could still find the strength to uncork and pour... (and shove over whoever got in the way of the fridge).

But all is well, and I'm glad to be on the flip side of things.  Recovery will still take a wee while but I feel I've now turned a corner.

Despite not having the energy to type or do anything other than imitate a hibernating bear, the thoughts have been stewing in my pain addled brain, ready to burst upon the page in horsemanship splendour. 

So enjoy, and I hope my rambling make some sort of sense.

The topic I mentally keep revisiting is one that Buck discusses in his book Believe (if you haven't read it, go do that now...).

The Qualities for Success.  Buck goes on to list 8 qualities which horses have and humans should emulate.

1. Intuition
2. Sensitivity
3. Change
4. Presence
5. A non aggressive attitude
6. Determination
7. Humility
8. Love

I'd like to think I am good with 1, 2, 6 and 8.  Always a work in progress, but these four traits come fairly easily to me.  Numbers 3, 4, 5 and 7 however, somewhat less so.

Now reading that list it would be easy to assume that if I have difficulty with change, presence, a non aggressive attitude and humility that I a) wouldn't be a bundle of fun to be around and b) am some sort of degenerate thug.  I'm happy to report I have been know to be fun and people even enjoy my company (go figure) and I'm about as aggressive as a sock.

What I am and indeed what the horses have helped me be, is self aware.  So, let me run through that list again quickly...

1. Intuition - now my mum used to nickname me the witch, for no other reason other than I am very perceptive without actually having to think about it.  I have also learned (the hard way) that when I don't listen to that 'little voice in my head', it is to my detriment.  Horses have helped me develop this skill and I know if I am on the right track.

2. Sensitivity - I am very sensitive to the emotions of people around me.  I can walk in to a room and pick up on the vibe of the people in there.   To feel the subtle change is key in this kind of horsemanship.

3. Change -  Well lets be honest, who is good at change? We are creatures of habit who like to grind our own little rut into the dirt.  Then life happens and we are forced to change and grow.  Change isn't always a bad thing and I am much better adapting to it and being open.  I'm I all signing and dancing in embracing it, er not quite...  But I have changed, I am adapting and honing the skills I need to enhance who I need to be, to be a better horsewoman.

4. Presence - in today's thoroughly sterile modern world of technology, it is increasingly difficult to be in the moment, to stay present in what is happening around us and what we are experiencing.  Heck, most people are too busy taking selfies of what they are taking part in rather than immersing themselves in the actually 'doing'.   Horses are only ever in the present... Maite reminds me of that everyday!!

5. A non aggressive attitude - Now this can be interpreted several ways but for me personally it is all to do with defensiveness.  This can be misconstrued as being aggressive.  Flight or fight.  This ties in with presence.  You bring your attitude and your baggage to the table then you will not be in the present working with your horse, and you will receive some very accurate equine feedback.

6. Determination - According to my husband I have too much of this.  I am very much the type of person if you tell me I can't do something, that's red rag to a bull and becomes incentive to prove you wrong.  However, with maturity comes some common sense and I now stop to think if I SHOULD ;)   Now, with horses you need something about you, you need the guts, you need TRY (but remember to end on a good note, don't lose sight of the slightest try).

7. Humility - This is a tricky one as if you have a problem with humility, people would assume that you are immodest, but I struggle the other way.  I have to remember my self worth.   Be humble and remember the enormous amount of trust a horse has to let you work with him, and ride him. Respect him.

8. Love - Where would we be without it?  I love hard and fall fast.  Horses are my all consuming passion.  Horses are my best friends, I love them deeply.  I also respect my fellow human, we're all in this for the love of horses I hope.

The above is my interpretation of these 8 qualities.  I hope you can see horses and life, it really is all the same.

Next time, where I am in my journey with Maite (with all of the above) and some day three clinic notes!

See you on the flip side x
(Won't be as long until the next one I promise)

Presence and Parables

“You cannot teach a man anything, you can only help him 

find it within himself.”

― Galileo 


In a previously life a was a nursing student, and at some point I saw this quote and jotted it down on a mini post-it note and stuck it on my laptop.  Years have passed but this sticky little piece of paper has endured. Through several house moves and life changes, I could never bring myself to throw it out.  For the last few years it's been stuck on a bookshelf in my kitchen (now supported by sticky tape as it no longer has the ability to adhere on it's own) in an attempt that maybe my children would read it and learn from it.  Or so I thought.  I've now come to realise that that's not why I've kept it.  I kept it as I had no clue what it actually meant.  Of course I understood the literal meaning, and I'm sure I thought I knew what the deeper meaning to this message was all about.  Wrong.  I now realise I did not have a blind clue.

I had an interesting conversation with someone recently, who although enjoyed one of the clinics, found herself frustrated by the storytelling that Buck does.  She said she found herself thinking, "Oh why doesn't he just get on with it".   Hmm, that got me thinking and my response would be this.   Buck's stories are tales of his experiences over the years.  They not only serve as fascinating stories in their own right, but if you really listen to him, they are parables to illustrate a point or particular detail of your horsemanship.  If you do not listen, you miss the subtle nuances of his teachings.

Since this exchange I've gone on to think how many of us are in the room, or arena, or indeed in a conversation, but not actually present?  How many of us think we are listening to someone or our horse, but we are actually humouring the pause in our own diatribe, desperate to start our own talking or doing again?  How many of us are presented with a wealth of information or an experience and consciously or unconsciously ignore it?

I'm not talking about enthusiasm here, we all can get a bit carried away when it comes to talking about or doing something we love.  I'm talking of a complete lack of respect of who we are with (human and equine) and also a lack of respect for ourselves.  Why do we not value our own potential for development to actually absorb as much as we can, especially in a teaching situation.  We are there by our own choosing, because we want to learn, we want to be better.  Or do we?  Or do we just want to be there, and expect our horse to try, when in reality we are not actually present, therefore not trying OUR best but expect the best from our horse?

This kind of horsemanship is really about pushing the envelope in our own ability.  No one can do it for you.  If you truly want to progress and for your horse to progress, you have to be present, you have to take in as much as you are personally able to, you have to go beyond being a mechanic, you have to WANT this.

To be present, to be open, to be able to give it a go, to listen, to walk away thinking yes I got as much as was able to take from today. To TRY.

To have respect for the clinician, the other participants, your horse and YOURSELF.

Yes this is a journey, and don't misunderstand me, I'm not saying you have to be an expert and think you have it all mastered before you begin.  What I am saying is if you want to chase and hone the qualities it takes to be good with horses, feel, timing, precision, then you need to start by being present.  Feel your horse, listen to him, experience the ride.  Otherwise you will be so busy getting on with it, you'll miss both the journey and the destination.

So back to my post-it note.  I'm finally beginning to understand what these words mean.  I'm finally finding within myself what Buck is trying to teach us, and it really does have to come from us.

All of us learn differently.  The 3 main learning styles are visual, audible and kinesthetic, and I appreciate that parables may not be everyone's cup of tea, however, if you dial in mentally at Buck's clinics, what unfolds across 3 days is a rich tapestry of life, skill and experience.  Not just his or yours, but everyone's who is there, both human and equine.  It's a bounty of learning.

It is exactly the same with the horses.  Buck sets it up for them to find the answer themselves, he doesn't force them or do it for them.  He also does the same with us, and his tales are just another key to help us unlock that door.. all we have to do is listen.

See you on the flip side xx

Adventures of a Flat Footed, Buddhist, Drag Queen

I think it was on day 2 that I asked Buck a question about my horse being obedient but I felt he was mentally elsewhere.   He was responsive and respectful to my aids, but he didn't quite feel 'in the room' with me.

Buck told me as nicely as he possibly could that I needed to be more interesting for my horse.  Essentially, Tuff has to tune me out to tune something else in (this also applies to horses that like to make war/crabby expression with other horses).

Hmmm, now I knew this in a roundabout way before I asked the question.  I am very aware that I need to keep Tuff's attention, as with too much head space he makes up his own fun, but I never really considered that I needed to be more interesting, and more to the point what would classify as interesting to my horse?

Forever in the aim to become more horseman than horse mechanic I came home and really have sat and thought about this.  Am I ever interesting when in the saddle?  Or do I play out the same exercises in an attempt to make us both feel like winners?  In one regard, refining feel and softness, but sometimes paying the penalty of being considered regimented and dull to my horse?  What was lacking here (apart from wine dissolved brain cells)?

There is no doubt the exercises Buck showed us at Aintree have definitely helped spice up things in the menage, giving us both another level of communication, but I could not help feel I was fundamentally missing something.

Then it clicked.. whilst having a conversation about a cardigan, that in my husband's opinion made me look like a monk...  Tuff needed a purpose and I needed to try something different.  My cardigan had a purpose, and it fulfilled it well.  However it was not my usual look, but it felt good.  This is what I needed to apply to my horsemanship.  I'll get to the drag queen bit later...

So I made a commitment to take my riding out of the arena, and find purpose out on the trail.  Fairly simplistic in idea, but interesting in execution.   There are potentially a lot of distractions out hacking.  Be it other horses, riders, cars, sheep, cows, killer cyclists and ramblers or even the distraction as a rider to completely switch off and hand over the reins to your horse.   Never a good idea, but as a tired and harassed mum, is sometimes tempting.  So for a full two weeks I set off with Buck's voice in my ear and to begin with a simple ask of my horse... feel my focus and follow my feel in direction and speed.

So this exercise basically required Tuff to be on a loose rein and go in the direction I wanted him to go at the speed I wanted him to go.   My job was to not micromanage and only pick up the reins once he made a mistake (or if we were in mortal danger)  oh and to have lazer like focus.  Now focus is one of those things I am supremely good at when needed to be (i.e in mortal danger or if there is only one piece of cake left) but I can sometime be a very lazy rider, and once I start nattering, switch of completely and be a incompetant leader.  Tuff has the attention span of a gnat and is the nosiest horse I've ever met, so I was expecting a fair amount of correction both of myself and with him in the beginning, but what I found out about myself and my horse is when I upped the ante, so did he.

Treat them how you want them to be, not where they are.  There it is again.  This Buck fella knows his stuff :)

So Tuff and I continued our adventures, and I found myself introducing more and more of the exercises covered at Aintree, out on the trail.  But more importantly I was using them for a purpose, not just randomly implementing them.   They started to make sense to Tuff on another level.   Soft feel and getting to those feet proved useful when riding out with dear Clara, an older slower lovely mare.  Moving the front over particularly useful for avoiding gigantic rabbit holes, back up and moving the front and hind with precision for the many gates we encounter, following my focus is indispensable for many a situation, particularly when going through narrow gaps with your feet up on your horses neck!   Of course it was not all rosy, there were times Tuff was worried but I found he trusted my judgement, and that his feet were becoming mine and I can start to take them anywhere I need them to go... also short serpentines are invaluable when coming across killer soya bean pickers!

But the highlight for me, someone who has struggled to trust my riding and judgement for so long, was the long fast controlled trots on a loose rein, over open countryside, with my horse feeling totally one with me and moving in complete synchronicity underneath me.   Together in gait, speed, aim and focus.  Complete joy.  Buck is still teaching me long after the clinic has ended, as is Tuff.

So why the flat footed drag queen?  Well in the spirit of change and with a family holiday looming, I dug out my sandals and painted my blue-white toes a shocking shade of coral in an attempt to look 'normal' for a week.   Apparently I look better in my riding clothes... and like a drag queen in anything else...pass the wine!

See you on the flip side x

Buck-et List

When written in Chinese, the word 'crisis' is composed of two characters. One represents danger and the other represents opportunity.

John F. Kennedy

After another lovely evening at my hospitable friend Layla's house, I lay in bed that night processing the events of day 2.  Tuff and I's long serpentines without reins that day were great.  Flowing, fluid and on point (most of the time).  We then moved on to getting down to the feet with a soft feel and seeing how slow we could get the walk steps, could we hang a foot in the air? With softness? Almost and yes!  When I got to Tuff's feet we had some beautiful, slow, controlled movement.   We also revisited stopping with a soft feel, again I felt we were making good progress with this.  Just as I was floating around the arena with a big smile on my face, Buck encouraged those of us that were doing well with this to start to think about picking a hind foot to stop on.  Hmmm... easier said than done.  Well the choosing the foot was easy...stopping on it with softness less so.  So as I lay in bed that night, my brain was playing...

Right Hind, Right Front, Left Hind, Left Front... over and over, while visualising and remembering how my horse felt both in the walk and when asking for the stop.  Feel down to the feet.  Being particular is intense work for the brain!  So after a mini mental workout I gave in to sleep, ready for day 3.

Day 3 -I think you can see the change in me in the picture above.  Tuff and I came through those arena gates loud, proud, ready to learn and completely focused.  I seized the opportunity from Buck through the fog of my own crisis, and my boy gave me his all in return.

We revisited the exercises from the following two days.  During which it was interesting to witness the progression with each horse and within each partnership.  For me, what was evident was the change between Tuff and I.  Not a change in which we were different to each other, more of an organic growth, where my horse was almost relieved when I expected more from him, as the clarity in the task and inevitably in the release, gave him great comfort.   He felt like a winner, I felt like a semi-competent horseman and above all we felt like a team.  He got softer, and lighter.  I became more particular with my body, more considered in the feel that I was offering him.  I began to really train myself to guide with my legs and use my whole body to operate my horse.  My hands were less tools of necessity and more for refinement.

The exercise I'd like to talk about that is really a linchpin for all of this is the short serpentine.

This exercise predominantly is looking for the horse to use all four corners of itself while reaching even.  This is achieved by asking the horse to walk forward while being laterally bended at 90 degrees, with ears level, poll higher than the withers.  Imagine if you will, out on a trail, riding around a small bush.. (or sage brush if in USA).

So when taking the horse either right or left, you still need to consider where those feet are, and get in time with the front leg you are taking in that direction, so that it is not a random swinging of the horse around.  To do that would be the equivalent of tripping the horse up.  Knocking them off balance in that way would soon equal a horse that doesn't want to move.   You allow a straight step or two before taking the horse in the other direction.  This allows you to get timed up with the other front leg before asking for the movement.   Do not make the mistake of taking a lot of steps in between the change of direction and allowing your horse to travel 10 ft.  All you will achieve is taking the brace out, then putting it back in with too many steps, taking it out again, putting it back in again.... you see where I'm going with this.   It will equal a long time before you achieve what you've set out to, which is a horse without brace, moving all four corners even.  Now Buck talks about 'legs only' with the long serpentine, but the short serpentine should never be legs only.  Buck also recommends the short serpentine if you ever find yourself on a horse that feels like it's going to blow.  Get on that short serpentine until you feel a change.  Buck told us a lovely story about his daughter being sceptical about the need to teach the short serpentine when she was younger.  She now teaches the colt start classes at MSU and has all of her participants do this exercise!

Tuff felt initially stiffer with the short serpentine during the third day, but we soon worked out the brace and heaviness and took it to a good place.  The picture below shows us in full swing.

Again it comes back to timing, feel and feet.  Think all the way down to the ground when you ride your horse.

I am still digesting all of the information Buck shared with us in those three days.  They passed far too quickly and after the changes made in three days, I cannot imagine what we would all look like after a week under his tutelage.

I will be forever grateful to Tina Griffen, Buck and Mary Brannaman, and all the support team for making Aintree the wonderful event it was.   Also the support of my husband Matt who took care of our little family while I was galavanting.

Buck gave me something back that I was missing.  His gentleness of spirit and kindness is a gift.  Thank you Buck.

 Finally I have to thank the one and only Mr T.  Tuff gave me his huge heart and soul during those 3 days.  He is a wonderful partner, teacher and completely my soul mate, I will treasure the memories we made at Aintree forever.

So what's next in my horsemanship?  Well in the words of Coldplay, "I'd rather be a comma than a full stop".  I will continue my journey of improvement, not only for myself but for both my horses.  I will continue my blog (with more exercises from the clinic), teaching, riding and shooting for the moon.   This level of horsemanship, refinement, and connection is definitely worth chasing.

I will leave you with a song....  

https://youtu.be/VPRjCeoBqrI?list=PLzyYbaYKbahnEmFJFyxlURFHhSc74l5C7

Mr T and I will see you on the flip side xxxxx