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.