All the Pretty Horses

Yesterday we went to my friend Sally's land and rode her horses. I'd asked if we could go and just look at the horses because I thought the kids would get a kick out of that. Sally was like, "Sure you guys can come on over and ride them." Ride them? Like, all of us? Apparently so, although Emma did have to pass. Kip and I went out with Mark and Elizabeth riding at our backs and holding our beltloops. And the horses were so sweet and so good and Elizabeth just sat behind me giggling her heart out the whole time. But it made me a little nervous. Horses are, in case you're unaware, rather large creatures--much larger than they look in children's storybooks. And they are large in a way any bodybuilder would envy--a whole lot of rippling, heavy muscle. Additionally, they snort, swat flies, stamp about, and you know, wiggle. And let's face it, if they decided to they could just run off any old place they darn well wanted and there's nothing a puny human like me could have done. As a younger person, this sort of thing didn't worry me too much. As a parent, watching the massive flanks of the horse in front of me, I couldn't help the thought from crossing my mind a time or two. But not enough to ruin the ride. Which was really beautiful, and mercifully non-exciting. When we got back, Savannah wanted to ride, so she got up with me and Sally let the horse around for a few turns.

Then we had hot dogs and watermelon and lemon cake I'd made. (Shelle, you know I have an obsessive need to cook multiple versions of recipes so that I am gospel sure that the one I stick with is THE BEST. Your lemon cake--without a doubt and unanimously voted--THE BEST. I slept better knowing, or I would have slept better if I hadn't been so full of lemon cake...) 

If I can figure out how (technology, why must you taunt me) to get the pictures we took off of Kip's camera, I'll add some tomorrow.