Mid-Life Crisis

I've heard the stories of strange things people do when they reach a certain age: Buy a sports car, take up ballroom dancing, and get chased by bulls down the middle of narrow streets in Spain. Not us.

We're the sensible ones, my husband and I. We enjoy our quiet little existence. You won't see us spending our kids' inheritance (as if there were one) on fast cars and faster bulls. No siree! We plan to stay in our own back yard. Dressed in jeans ... and boots. Spending our twilight years mosey'n into the sunset on these:

Meet "Rowdy" - a 2 1/2 year old quarter horse who has already settled into his temporary corral. Rowdy has never been ridden, but given his friendly demeanor and Bud's experience with horses, I'm guessing he will adapt to a saddle and rider pretty quickly. He loves to "nuzzle" and never shys away from being petted.

Chigger is a 12-year-old that doesn't look like the grand Palomino I had pictured, but this was taken after a long-awaited rainy day in Oklahoma. Hopefully, some gentle grooming will spruce him up a bit. He's waiting to come for a "try-out" period once the corral is completed. Bud will have to spend some time bringing out this one's gentler side before I saddle up the first time. It's only been 30 years since the last time I rode a horse.

I guess I should have been more specific about wanting a Mustang. You know the kind I mean - one with four wheels, a top that goes up and down and On-star, for goodness' sake.

 

"For He will give His angels charge concerning you,

To guard you in all your ways."

Psalm 91:11

Happy Trails.