One of this afternoon’s meetings got canned so instead of walking the long mile to my office I bunked off; finished work early, in an unofficial manner.
By 15.45 I was at the yard shoving a carrot down the reluctant Vin’s throat. Well yes, OK. He wasn’t terribly reluctant at all.
By 16.15 I’d changed, de-rugged, groomed, tacked up and we were playing in the indoor arena.
He’s such a lovely boy. The exercises that JP has given us are getting easier; after half an hour of fairly tough work we went in to cool-down mode.
Back in his stable I untacked, groomed and rugged him up. And shoved another half-dozen carrots down his not-very-reluctant throat.
Then I came home, fired off a quick email to a band in NYC and Soph came home.
We kissed and cuddled and she made me open the post and now I’m sitting here surrounded by cards, gifts and money.
It is my birthday.
I’m going upstairs for a shower in a moment or two and then I’m being taken out for a meal as a treat, but just for now I don’t want to move, don’t want to disturb a thing.
I’m just sitting here, surrounded by nice things. I’ve just listened to The Load-Out by Jackson Browne and now I’m listening to the brilliant album from the very talented Steve McGill, and feeling just a little emotional.
In an ‘about to burst in to tears’ kind of way.
p.s. For those who don’t know it, here’s The Load-Out: