and disrespectful rascal into a trail horse I'd feel safe and happy to ride. That, and to have a place share various musings and happenings. [See Musings, Horse Happenings, and Other Odds and Ends of Life]
That feels like a lifetime ago, in a way. A different life. The big Victorian house and 20-something acres with a milk cow, horses, chickens and the works exists now in memory and pictures, not in real-time. At least not for us. I loved the years we spent there--our family growing up. The green, green land, the rolling hills, the big gracious rooms and wrap around porches. It was magical. Perfect. I thought I'd be there the rest of my life. Host grandkids and holidays, and maintain my battle to keep flowerbeds weed free, animals healthy, and that type of thing.
Now here we are, having traded Missouri for Northern California in 2012, rolling hills for mountains and miles and miles of trails to ride. I'm loving the smaller house. Less land to take care of. Having three chickens instead of 30 and one horse. Honor has become the wonderful trail horse I hoped he would become, so in a way, one of my original objectives for this blog has changed. But I continue to muse, so it's a good thing my title was multi-purpose!
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