Artax
Well-Known Member
I could do with your thoughts kind HHOers... a bit of background... (I hate to get right in there. Might give the wrong impression).
My grazing/yard is fantastic. Rolling hills as far as the eye can see, cows grazing, sheep in the distance, wild horses....... ok scratch that last bit. Anyway, it really is fab if you have thin, lanky, poor doer types that get thin if they so much as sneeze. With this in mind, I set out to buy a poor doer. (Have done the whole fatty thing, can't be arsed).
I wasn't forward enough in my thinking when I bought from this lanky stock... clearly I have a throwback from a generation where thriftiness was more the raisin detre (really? Autocorrect won't do even that for me? Ffs). Hope you get my drift. He is now of the age where I can no longer trust the fat will turn into an extra 1/4inch up on the bum/wither... as there's more than that growing outwards on either side.
I'm so stuck up my own arse that I haven't so far considered some sort of training livery by some jumped up tart/idiot thinking she/he is CdJ or WFP. Yet, here I am, absolutely drowning in work, so much so, that I can't ride at all due to time being wasted on some bloodsucking company while I watch my darling morph into some giant beast with sticks for legs. I'm in pain here dear reader, have sympathy I beg you. Still. I have to pay the mortgage blah blah blah... I know, your heart bleeds for me.
Should I? Could I? Send the he-beast away as a hireling for some rumbunxious fun out in the countryside? How about for some pinging over grids over winter?
Money may or may not be an object depending on if husband knows or not. Honest opinions only need apply. Be as witchy as you like.
My grazing/yard is fantastic. Rolling hills as far as the eye can see, cows grazing, sheep in the distance, wild horses....... ok scratch that last bit. Anyway, it really is fab if you have thin, lanky, poor doer types that get thin if they so much as sneeze. With this in mind, I set out to buy a poor doer. (Have done the whole fatty thing, can't be arsed).
I wasn't forward enough in my thinking when I bought from this lanky stock... clearly I have a throwback from a generation where thriftiness was more the raisin detre (really? Autocorrect won't do even that for me? Ffs). Hope you get my drift. He is now of the age where I can no longer trust the fat will turn into an extra 1/4inch up on the bum/wither... as there's more than that growing outwards on either side.
I'm so stuck up my own arse that I haven't so far considered some sort of training livery by some jumped up tart/idiot thinking she/he is CdJ or WFP. Yet, here I am, absolutely drowning in work, so much so, that I can't ride at all due to time being wasted on some bloodsucking company while I watch my darling morph into some giant beast with sticks for legs. I'm in pain here dear reader, have sympathy I beg you. Still. I have to pay the mortgage blah blah blah... I know, your heart bleeds for me.
Should I? Could I? Send the he-beast away as a hireling for some rumbunxious fun out in the countryside? How about for some pinging over grids over winter?
Money may or may not be an object depending on if husband knows or not. Honest opinions only need apply. Be as witchy as you like.