Sunday, September 18, 2011

While I Was Riding

Cabbage and Beep often come with me to the barn on the weekends.  They wait in the shade while Sam and I circle the arena at varying speeds, crisscrossing our paths and marching down straightaways.  When we jump, I round the corner near the lone tree, and I allow myself to be distracted from tweaking and lifting and pushing long enough to see the little baseball-cap-wearing form.  Often, a chubby little hand raises, pauses, and waves, flapping from the wrist.  She is saying hello (probably to Sam, but I'll take it).

The other day, Beep was a little too busy to wave at us.  I could see her under the picnic table, crouching and sifting dirt.  I called to her and although her head lifted briefly, she didn't wave.  Instead she went back to her dirt sifting.  I knew she'd be dirty, I could see it from Sam's back seven feet in the air and twenty feet away. 

This is a barn kid in the making. 

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