Yesterday was an odd day.  Savannah was sick (diarrhea, cha cha cha) and D was squirmy to get out of the house.  I was slightly frazzled and restless, after having cut work for two hours to go meet our agent at the new house to measure the master bedroom and check the progress of our conditional repairs.  Those are some motivated sellers!

So instead of sitting around the house and looking at each other, I dragged him to the barn.  He somewhat willingly photographed me and the Kid.  If you're a facebook friend/instagram follower, you've probably already seen these photos.  I'm gonna share my faves, anyways.

I mentioned last week about wanting to see if Archie was as responsive to this new, confident, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze version of me while bareback.  He is.  Even though we just walked around and posed for the camera, he was a rock star.  He listened perfectly and moved off my legs wonderfully and did all the random things I asked him for.

So I took off his bridle.

And we walked in two little circles.  I smiled for the camera, dismounted, and praised the fuck out of my little pony.

Going back in to my history, and my complete inability to make and maintain friendships, I do actually know another equestrian in this city.  I helped her find her current barn, the place with no shade that is considerably closer to the new house.  She's a Western rider and did mostly trails back where she's from.  I nag her about not wearing a helmet when the opportunity arises.  I get that it's a huge Western faux pas to protect your head from gravity.  I get it.  But I think it's fucking retarded.

I was really taken aback when she commented on one of my photos that I'd wear a helmet, but no saddle, bridle or proper shoes and how that confused her.  I farted out some retort but it's been sitting on my mind since then.  It feels like the categories (safety and tack) are completely different.  Like losing tack (and shoes) doesn't inhibit my ability to be safe so long as I am in control of the circumstances.  Would I have taken the bridle off if he were snorting, spooking or crow-hopping?  Fuck no.  I probably wouldn't have gotten on him.  But a calm, sane and completely compliant Archie?  Why not?  It felt like the perfect opportunity to try it (damn you, Stacy Westfall) because Archie was responsive and I had a live human being (who is also a medical professional) watching my every move.

He's so bored.

Cliché heart.

Beka, why aren't your toes turned in?

I look preggo.  I'll probably get grief when that time comes and I'm still riding Mr. Ponykins.

Thank you for removing that vile contraption. Lick, lick, lick.

In a ton of the photos taken of me over fences, I'm biting my lips together.  Like this.

And you will move..

And then move the other way...

I love his expression on this.  I just wish, you know, I looked equally as nice.