Home

I pulled up to the barn for my lesson. Argh. I'm tired and it's cold (okay, cold to me) outside. I just want to sit inside my nice warm car with the seat warmer keeping my bunsaroonis warm. My trainer isn't here yet and I really don't feel like riding anyway.

I get out of my car reluctantly after talking with my trainer. She's on her way. I hear all the tractors going grooming the rings, shovels cleaning stalls and horses happily munching on their breakfast. Oh, those wonderful familiar sounds that feel like home to me. My feet become lighter as I slide the barn door open and amble up to my fearless steed.

His ears flat back as he scoots to the outside part of his paddock. He doesn't want anything to do with me because he's pretty sure he knows what I want. He's right. I gather my tack, slip on my boots and secure my chaps. I go out and slide the halter on my darling boy and he sighs loudly as I lead him in for his grooming and tacking ceremony.

Each movement finds my body warming up, the smile on my face beginning to broaden and the mood in my heart becoming lighter. As I lead Black Horse out of the barn and slip into my saddle, I am back to my cheerful and jovial self. We head out to the arena. As we enter, I click the ol' boy up to a trot.

Yes, I'm home. Grateful for this wonderful place to escape to.