So it was the kind of Thanksgiving I wanted to have – one that would cause others to scratch their heads in bewilderment. First of all, there was no plane ride to some distant place or car ride on an Interstate. We did not even drive to town or over to a neighbor’s place. Less time travelling and more time to have fun.

The morning poem of the day was “Flies” by Alice Oswald. Lovely description, no need to interpret it. Breakfast, the usual, yogurt, bananas, blueberries with crushed almonds.

It was then that we deviated from the usual routine. Pete stayed inside and began cooking – a different sort of meal, Indian food. I went outside and did horsey homeschooling. I took Raudi for a ride out on our trails. We were both a little stiff and my stirrup is squashed so I can’t get my foot in it. Still, it was a brisk ride, the sun shining brightly through the trees.

After, I took Tinni, Tyra, and Ryder for a woods walk. I was bringing three birds to life with one handful of food. I figured that Tyra would enjoy just running loose and that Tinni, on the lead, would enjoy watching her. And Ryder would enjoy checking out the smells. I was right. Beautiful walk. I came home and then quickly played with Hrimmi – she enjoyed the carrot stretches, is proud of the fact that she can now touch her rear legs with her nose. Agility was so-so.

By then, Pete was done cooking and with kitchen chores. So we headed downroad to meet our friend Karen who accompanied us on a bicycle ride. Pete rode his mountain bike, which has studded (but narrow) tires, and I rode my fat tired bicycle, which now has studded tires.

We’ve only gotten one snowfall, about three weeks ago. And in that time, the ATVers have trashed the trails. So we ended up walking about half of our five mile ride. I am going to have to return and get some photos – the devastation is beyond belief. I used to be angry about this – now I’m just plain sad. I don’t know where one learns to be considerate or to be respectful of other trail users. But it sure isn’t happening at this end of the word.

On the brighter side of things, the ride was a challenge for me because I am not practiced at riding on icy, rutty trails. So at times I grew impatient. But my balance was pretty good – and I staying upright, and moving forward was most enjoyable to me. So tomorrow, I will go out for another ride.

Back home, cleaned the horse pen and watched as the horses played in the paddock. I’ve resumed giving them the small gas containers, which I put treats in, today packer pellets and carrots. Pete called it horsey curling and the moniker has stuck. He also said that this must be a way of releasing endorphins. Way fun to watch. It also is going to cut down on the hay bill because I can now clean the pen while they work the containers.

Our friend Karen is coming over for dinner. She’s bringing naan bread and a pie. So there, today we have it all, good weather, recreating, horsey entertainment, and a holiday meal that can’t be beat.

Next: 327. 11/23/18: The Writing Life: The Horsey Life