After our busy day on Saturday, Sunday was wonderfully restful.

I had two lovely hacks, the ponies behaved well, the sun was shining and everything seemed right with the world.

My reward for riding and looking after Cookster – my sister’s pony after all – was to find him absolutely covered in mud.

 

At first I thought t was highly ironic that I was wearing my ‘Living the dream’ gilet.  Who dreams of spending their Sunday afternoon scrubbing mud off of a pony?  Especially one who is moulting.

However, as we pottered up the hill, I realised that actually it was an amazing day.  If anyone had told my twelve year old self that one day I would be able to spend a sunny afternoon playing with two ponies and riding them I would have been thrilled.  I really am living the dream.