First things first: I vacuumed my home; I filled the bird feeders; I cursed at the robot that ran out of batteries and therefore didn’t get up all the dog hair under my bed; and then I said, “I’m going riding.”
Thankfully, Reo was in the shed when I arrived, so no traipsing across the pasture was required. He nickered lowly, very slowly walked toward me, and happily accepted my offer of peppermint horse cookies. What a good fellow. I placed the faded halter on his head, and he followed me quite nicely on our walk to the barn. (It is about 100 feet from the gate to the barn where the tack room is housed.) After grooming, saddling, and walking to the arena, I was ready to once again try to perform a decent mounting. I failed, but it was a little better than totally falling on his neck….I only leaned close to his neck. I might mention that I actually got the saddle on him in one try, without knocking off the saddle pad. I’m improving.
Reo was delightfully lazy today. The Kentucky air is warm and welcoming, and both Reo and I enjoyed outside time walking down the lanes. He, of course, thought the cows across the way might eat him, but because we finally have an excellent rapport, he listens to me and doesn’t react in a manner that I cannot control. The movement of his steps was relaxing and peaceful, and my reverie was only disturbed occasionally when he quickened his pace because he saw the miniature horse in the field next to us, and when he saw the two week old palomino filly in the next pasture, and when he saw the white hose on the ground near the watering can, and when he saw the inside of the old dead Oak tree. But nonetheless, our ride was absolutely perfect and after 40 minutes of sun, bird songs, neighing from his pasture pals, and my body beginning to shout at me that it was time to end this ride, I allowed Reo to take me to the mounting block and finish our ride.
He got his grain, he got his extra grazing time on the lush outer yard, he got his cookies, and back to his mates he went. Both of us very relaxed, and I’m ready to take a quick stop at Walmart for bird seed and a few groceries.
No carts in Walmart, so I walked outside to the cart bins and grabbed a cart. That should have been a hint about the next 40 minutes. I was not able to find some items I needed; I discovered that the store had raised the price of the facial tissue I buy; and to top that off, they had lowered the number of tissue in the box. I did find the salmon on a plank that we like, so I placed that in my cart, along with the bird seed, the Imodium for Chuck, Denta Stix for the dogs, other food items, and hummus for me. Okay, not bad. I’m ready to go.
No checkouts open, at least not enough of them. Four, to be exact, but lots of the self checkouts, which I did not want to use because I simply don’t like to. I picked a line with a young man cashier and only one other person in line. But wait, the woman ahead of him was having trouble with her bank card. Of course. My luck. I waited, and waited, while others came in the line behind me and prevented me from backing out. I waited longer as the cashier looked about for help from his Walmart supervisor, who eventually showed up and couldn’t solve the problem either. Fifteen minutes later I finally was able to place my items on the checkout counter, and at last was able to leave the store.
In case you hadn’t detected a mood change happening here, by the time I left Walmart I was tense, moody, irritated, definitely not relaxed, and had wiped out all my positive feelings from my earlier ride with Reo. Of course, I took all this frustration out on my husband when I finally arrived home, which didn’t settle too nicely with him. I apologized, I gave him a bagel crisp with hummus, a quick kiss, and hugged my dogs. I survived.