First I went on a trail ride in the woods with friends at the stable where Gus the horse is kept. We meandered around and came out in one field and saw a feral hog, which hightailed it out of there. Jennifer reminded us to keep an eye out for the rest of the herd, or horde, or whatever collective nouns that hogs gather in, but we only saw the one piggy.
We walked through fields of wildflowers, sadly most of which was bastard cabbage, which is an invasive species, but pretty anyway. We rode through fields of gold. There were bluebonnets and promroses and daisies, too, and also some Indian blanket, and it was pretty spectacular. We all agreed that this is why we live in Texas, and we store up days like this for August, when it’s hotter than hell. “You may all go to hell and I will go to Texas,” quoth the general, and he wasn’t kidding.
The horses had a fine old time browsing on leaves every chance they could get, and we crossed streams and surged up hills, and my saddle and bridle are in the back of the Forester because man they are filthy. In a bit I will go sit on the deck and clean my tack.
So that was that. Then after cleaning Gus and washing him off and letting him graze and picking his stall and heading home, I also:
- did laundry
- cleaned the bathroom
- mowed the front and back yards
- swept the front walkway
I am achy but in a good way and I am sure I will be moving a little creakily tomorrow. But it feels so good to do all that, and move and ride and live in the world on a glorious day in Central Texas.