Pick Yourself Up, Dust Yourself Off

This blogpost should go in my Momish blog, but here I am so it's going here for now. I have had to get back on the horse, as they say, and it's been two months of hell. It was already a year of riding with nerves, because of riding a young horse and me being an old mom, but then after falling and breaking a finger, and having hand surgery and meeting lots of prisoners getting their casts off at county right alongside me, and then getting back on the horse -- what the hell am I doing? Feeling sick every time. But when you ride, you just ride. You can't stop yourself from riding. I have and do look continually for an older, boring, family safe horse, and I will breathe a sigh of relief when I find one. But Dewey is a good horse. He is a young guy. He is the one who is here. So I will keep riding him, and being as safe as I can about it, until he's not so young anymore. And then, somehow, we'll be perfect for each other.