The owner of the stable took me for my second lesson.
I had a 24-year-old gelding that was very nice,
but had a bit of character. I started off by walking round the manège,
first one way then about turning and round the other way,
then weaving through a line of cones.
I thought I did very well; David thought so as well and
asked me if I wanted to try a trot. I was feeling confident so said yes.
I was soon trotting round and round and attempted the
cones on the trot - not quite so good now.
I said to David that he would never believe I was a dancer
and taught people to dance, but stick me on a horse
and I've no idea which is left or right.
There are only two choices; even my second choice was wrong.
He said everybody is the same.
You can tell the horse is trotting cos of the dust he raises
I look like Camilla,
but hard hats are compulsory in the riding school.
But at least my jeans are western ones.
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