Tales of the unexpected.
The very real anxiety that I had bitten off more than I could chew, had eyes bigger than my belly, spread myself too thin, gone too far or any other idiom you care to add kept me from writing blog number 2. (I was thinking yesterday I wonder if someone who had sat on people's heads, had a few lessons on sitting on people's heads and had a few looks inside someone's skull whilst someone else did the surgery might wake up one day and decide they'd take on being a brain surgeon. "I mean, how difficult can it be?". I've had to learn a lot, it was worrying me. No so the horses. They've not been worried, just got on with the job of being a horse. The rhythm and pattern of being their sole attendee is fascinating. I knew routine mattered and worked hard to get that established. I didn't count on the speed at which they would also build a routine of their own. The most noticeable is the weather vane. It goes like this. Feed. Snowman eats the lot of his,