The rain this summer, Jurassic God, the rain. Over here on the east coast every 2nd-3rd day its been ground soaking, deep sucking mud creating, unspeakable rain. I've been waving my tiny arms with fistfuls of cash at my house painter. Still, he's been unable to get enough clear weather to repaint the exterior of my house, which is almost patchy enough to pass as a giraffe themed fashion statement. Too much animal print for me though, even if it was my kind of style. (Also, giraffes make a T-Rex think of food which doesn't help with trying not to eat all the things)
When the weather stayed clear yesterday afternoon, almost everyone miraculously materialized at the barn.
Readers: Oh, you were all going to work on dressage together? That's lovely.
Hell no! Time to hit the beach!
Now when the average person thinks of riding to/on the beach, they picture something idyllic
|A bit of this ...|
|With a little of this thrown in|
Make way, coming through! Go Trace Go!
Go all the places, do all the things. If its a ditch, cross it. If its an obstacle, jump it. If its a hill, climb it. If its a beach, storm it. So, by the time we get to the beach, its a lot more like ...
(Three velociraptors, a hippo and a pygmy hippo charge into a (sand) bar. The first velociraptor says ... ) Help a T-Rex out, I know there's a joke in here just waiting to be written
Anyway, lots of galloping in the sand for the experienced horses, cantering and hanging out in the waves for the hippo and the pygmy hippo. Then the long march home of a good ride with tired happy horses. Good day, good company on a very rare unrainy Sunday this season.