So after bitching about the riding instructor gig, despite winds so ridiculous on Saturday that I thought the kids might blow right off the horses, I had this great moment with one of the kids.
Little T is one of my two-front-teethless seven-years olds. She doesn't say much to me except "yes, Ma'am", "no, Ma'am", or just a plain yes or no. She tries her best every single week, and she's doing pretty damn well if I do say so myself. Her parents are nice - her dad reminds me of mine - and understand that this isn't a "show up, get on, ride, get off, go home" kinda barn.
We'd gone a little long in her lesson, and though her mom always wants Little T to help groom whoever she's been on, I thought Mom might have somewhere else to go when we were done. Walking the Reliable Horse back to the pasture he lives in adds about five minutes. No problem, says Mom, she can put him up.
So Little T and I walked up to the pasture, gave Reliable Horse a pat and sent him off to well-deserved grass. We walked back along the dusty trail without exchanging a word, and I thought, I would totally go on a two-hour trail ride with this kid. She doesn't engage in a lot of chatter, and I suspect that it's because she just doesn't talk if she has nothing to say. I felt like an older arktoi teaching a younger girl and having the satisfaction of having passed on knowledge and taught competence.
Scheduling nonsense and only two really trustworthy horses be damned. I'm hooked, because until the girls leave the barnyard, I'm happy.