Liquid, dark as steeped tea, circled the drain. I scrunched my nose, watching the water sluice from my body; disgusted about the amount of dirt I’d dragged into my house.
Today was phenomenal. Fun. Silly. Lots of dirty, hard work.
A few days ago, one of my favorite people in the world (who lives in Virginia) emailed to tell me she was coming up here to play for the weekend. I made her come to the barn and join the Saturday morning group lesson. This group, comprised of my more advanced students, practiced lead changes. They’ve been practicing a change of rein, simple lead changes and flying lead changes. My dear friend (who is 11) fit right into the group.
Afterward, we unsaddled, put together a folder for her, and then sent her on her way.
And I was sad.
My brain refused to relax, so I started sorting. I went through plastic bins, threw away certain things, and cleaned others. Random recruits (including some Minions and a parent or two) helped sort through brushes, putting together colored totes for each horse. I shredded paper and swept and cleaned hay off of the floor of the indoor arena, covering myself in dirt and dust.
But I was still sad.
I can’t have every kid who comes here be a part of my Minion program. I can’t claim them all.
But I wish I could.
I really, really wish I could.
Hugs and love, Aubry (who has NO e in her name and who is from Virginia!), from Michigan. Firefly Farm loves you.