…is good for the inside of a man. Yadda yadda. Whatever.
Murphy’s hidden corollary:
The Outside of a Horse is Bad for the Outside of a Woman in La-La Land
I caught a shod rear hoof full-on, luckily on the large muscle mass on the outside of my thigh. It was a full force kick: if it had hit a bone I would have a broken leg.
Here’s something I never thought I’d say: THANK YOU thighs, for having saddle bags I can’t get rid of, no matter how hard I work out. I ate a piece of cake in to support them in their protective efforts!
Normal barn feeding was late, the boys were cranky and restless. I walked right into the middle of the scuffle, in an enclosure, to get a bucket. I KNOW better than this. I saw all the signs, and didn’t put them together (getting over migraine). Lesson learned: a horse can go without grain when you are unable to think clearly, for whatever reason.
These are two good hearted, well-trained, safe horses. No one can believe it.
On the flip side, it’s yet another eating accident. Which seems to be my accident of choice. How ridiculous is that? Alice came running with a frozen dinner, having grabbed the first thing out of her freezer. My first thought? Ooooooo…Chinese stir fry! Yum.
Sigh. My relationship with food is hopeless. My second thought was “thank you!”
Greta was riding, I yelled for help, she galloped up the road, Paul Revere style, to catch Lily, who was leaving. Lily checked my leg (she’s a doc), looked up, and said, “You are so lucky” and “It’s going to hurt really really bad, when your adrenaline drops.”
I learned this from Lily a long time ago: no matter what doctors say about ice on, ice off, pack the dang thing in ice for 24 hours, minimum. I did 48 hours, with only a few minutes between. It saved me. Hematoma the size and shape of a half a basketball sticking out of my thigh Sunday night. Today: totally flat, spreading out nicely, preeeeeetty colors.
Naturally I had to send Daisy 3 separate photographs, so she could see it from all angles. Please feel free to console her. I’m disappointed I didn’t think to get Shaun to photograph it when it was still in a perfect horseshoe shape.
My trainer sent me a 1941 reminder video on horsemanship: