I came a little early for my lesson (I usually do since I was late once and here in Central Central Ohio, you never know what ugly thing the traffic will do next), so Amanda had me go ahead and get Wilco ready. Since the two tacking bays were occupied, I groomed him in his stall. Amanda, meanwhile, was quite sanguine about the day being her 24th birthday and the possibility of meeting her maker while riding the Irritable Mare. But Amanda knows what she’s doing so it’s OK. I guess. All I know for sure is she sent me off with a job to do.
So I brushed Wilco, a little concerned because we were in the stall together and he is so goll-darned big (I mean if he took a notion to sit on me, that would be that!), not thinking a thing about my teacher but just about my own butt as I brushed and curried and worked to get the little limps of dirt out of Wilco’s coat.
When I finished, I went looking for Amanda since she usually leads him out (this has changed; I now do my own leading of Wilco, thank you very much!) and found her. She seemed to have something on her mind.
“How did the ride go?” I asked.
“Fine,” said Amanda.
“How did the mare do?”
“She threw me.”
“I went over her head, right over the front.”
“Small horses are quick. They can fool you.”
Good night! At least I didn’t have to watch
Today’s picture is a detail from Bernardino della Ciarda Thrown Off His Horse, 1450sTempera on wood,Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence