When your friend travels all the way to Virginia to pick up you and your horse for a week-plus trip to South Carolina, it’s a big, big, BIG deal.
My older daughter hadn’t seen her friend since January (when the friend and her family traveled back for the girls’ beloved riding instructor’s funeral). The squealing was ear-piercing.
“It’s a good thing I’m deaf in one ear,” the friend’s father said. “Otherwise the trip back would be intolerable.”
Packing for a horse is no small thing. “Here’s my pile,” my daughter said. “And this is Velvet’s. You gotta take a picture.”
She was especially proud of her medicine kit: an old medical kit re-purposed for a horse.
The friend had brought leg guards along for Velvet to wear on the trip.
And then they were off!
My daughter has called daily with reports of her adventures: galloping on wooded trails, getting bucked off (of course), a visit to an amusement park, movies, horsing shopping, getting a pedicure and massage (!), an all-day excursion to an equestrian center, etc. Basically, she’s having a filled-to-the-brim week-and-a-half of fun and games and loving every single minute of it.
She’ll be arriving home on Tuesday. I can’t wait. I’ve missed that girl.
This same time, years previous: on love and leftovers, atop the ruins, the quotidian (8.27.12), fresh tomato salad, chocolate malted milk frosting, and how to can tomatoes.