I will never make enough money teaching riding lessons to justify building an indoor arena.

Yeah, whatevs man.  If it rains torrentially it just means we stay in the barn and learn about latigo knots and the intricacies of wrapping a horse's legs.

After an extremely dry July, we've been getting some rain.  The grass is green again, and we don't have little sand twisters all over the yard from the wind blasting across the corral.  Riding in there doesn't kick up so much dust you can hardly see 30 ft.  The drainage pipe/ gravel/ sand combo seems to be doing its job, taking the water away to let the surface dry and firm up.

I have one student this year.

Luckily, she is my favourite student.

I got off to a slow late start.  I tell myself it'll be okay.  I'll advertise, I'll spread the word that I'm open for business.  People will drive down the road and see us riding.  It'll be okay.

But I know this little horse business of mine won't support the land necessary to run it.

My goal is to have the horses paying their own way and not have to ask my husband to pay them.  My next goal is to be able to sit down at the table in September and write out cheques for all those pesky school things.  You know the deal.  Kid comes home after the first day with five sheets of paper telling me to fork out for photography supplies and upcoming field trips and next year's yearbook.  Last year I did that.  Everything was paid on the second day of school.  It's not looking good for this year... so far...

I'll give myself a break though, and work towards improving what I've got.

I ride almost every day.  

Outside.

I've got a killer farmer tan.  Brown shoulders and lily-white legs.