“I’m a person of the mountains and the open paddocks and the big empty sky, that’s me, and I knew if I spent too long away from all that I’d die; I don’t know what of, I just knew I’d die.” – John Marsden
Today, Monday, it is 75 degrees and the sky is dressed in its best shade of blue. The past three days have been the same, gradually warming and slapping my skin with a nice late spring tan. My friend Julie, who I guided horseback riding adventures with last summer, came down from Kalispell to go to work with me on Friday. We saddled up and rode the hills and all at once I forgot how easy it is to take these days for granted. Riding and writing, riding and writing…
We camped at Sanders County Fairgrounds on Friday night in the pickup right next to my girls, who were lucky to have stalls and not stand tied to the trailer. Saturday morning we hit the trail with 148 other riders and saw every variety of tracks and scat but no glimpse of the wildlife who left them. Getting home, after two blown tires (one overdue and the sun-rot spare) and belly-hurting laughs laughter, was perfection. It was front porch sitting, tennis ball throwing, goat and horses lounging in the sun, lawn mowing perfection.
And just like that, the weekend is over and we’re back in the race to our wedding date next month. It’s all talk of flower vases and cake stands and lengths of table linens. This trail riding trip was meant to be a commencement of sorts to our season of riding but it looks like the next several weekends (and weeknights) are spoken for – sanding and painting a vintage table and windows, pouring concrete for our alleyway in the barn (wedding dance floor), ordering the barn roofing supplies, Chris slaving away on the trusses to finish off the barn, and finding him the perfect tie to wrap up the end of our preparation.
Happy Monday, readers!