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The Logic of a Child Anyone who reads the tales I tell, knows I wasn’t born into a horse family. My parents didn’t understand my fascination, but they didn’t try to curb it either. Get what I did there, curb my enthusiasm? Anyway, I had all kinds

X Marks the Spot Part of growing up in the country, and being the child of parents who survived several years of war, was having a huge garden. Not only did we have a huge garden, we also had two huge freezers that were filled with garden

  Trouble Times Three It seems trouble, often comes in threes. I don’t know why, but more often than not, this is what happens. I break my hand, saving a gelding from Mordecai’s decision to take out perceived competition. Then he takes a round out of poor

  Mordecai Spells Mayhem Waiting to geld Mordecai, shouldn’t have been a big deal. He wasn’t dangerous in his pen, all by his lonesome, and that pen was substantial. He would strut his stuff, every chance he got. Up and down the length of his pen, he

Oh, the Regret To some, a broken hand, would be a race to the hospital.  With me, not so much.  After all, I had things to do.  I wasn’t about to ruin a Saturday night, especially as, the kids were looking forward to their snacks and movie.