Why I Quit University for my Horses

University for most young adults is a huge goal and accomplishment. It allows those wanting to pursue a career a stepping stone onto that path and for many, that piece of paper declaring your degree, aka three years of being poor, tired, and stressed makes it all worth the inevitable hassle.

I speak from experience. Kind of. I didn’t actually get the piece of paper they all want so badly. I dropped out of university just before my first year came to an end, and I want to talk about that a bit because I still get a lot of people ask in both curiosity and for some reason, disappointment. It seems that it is now the norm for most young people to progress straight onto university because the student loan system has made it easier than ever to access further education. And because of this, it almost feels like you, yourself, are letting everyone else down just because you decided that path wasnt for you. I’m still pretty traditional and believe hands on experience is more valuable than anything. I’m not forgetting many well paid jobs and positions require these qualifications, but acting like this is the only option that matters is false and unfair.

My sixth form college pushed university just as much as I imagine everyone else’s did. I received no pressure however, from my family. I was the first of my family to go to uni, and since they’re farmers, university to them seems pretty pointless. Originally I applied to the college (I now attend for my BHS stages training) to study a HND  in Equine Sports Therapy, I can’t remember the exact name of the course. I managed to get an unconditional offer which I was thrilled about. Over the summer I began to realise I wasn’t really feeling it. Maybe this wasn’t the best decision in hindsight, considering what I’m now doing, it probably would’ve fast tracked me and I might not be still making coffees for minimum wage, but that’s how it’s panned out so nevermind.

Part of me didn’t fancy the whole being used as a dogs body at a college, and I still strongly stand by my opinion that, especially where horses are concerned, experience is everything. You can be told how to do things properly every day, and a horse will always find a way to screw it up for you! Anyway, back to the story, I didn’t enrol, deciding I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life, so naturally I took a gap year, where I basically worked, and competed the horses. It turned out to be one of the best years I’d had in a while.

Eventually I decided I was ready to write a personal statement to apply for Film studies & English. I had excelled in both subjects at school and it seemed like it would be my perfect degree, something I could really enjoy and get my teeth into. I applied for five unis, specifically wanting a place at the University of Leicester, which I got.

The first semester was fine, was fairly easy going and exciting. Of course it was daunting, I have a fair bit of anxiety being in situations with people I didn’t know, but I survived, it was fine. I didn’t really do the whole ‘freshers’ thing, I was still living at home because of the horses, and to save money. I suppose this could be why I didn’t really make many friends, and I struggle making friends anyway. But university didn’t really live up to the stories and my high expectations I’d been fed by my friends who were studying. I didn’t really want to party all that much, I wanted to work and get the degree done. The assignments were fair enough, although with how much freedom you’re apparently given for your work, I still managed to be in tears over several assignments, which often made no sense whatsoever no matter how many times I read the brief I was given.

By the time third semester rolled around, I getting really tired of it. I was really struggling for money. Between buying my supplies, eating everyday at uni and train fares, my student loan went no where (admittedly not helped by me treating myself to a pair of new white breeches and riding boots). My wages were barely enough as I was at uni five days a week in second semester, so I could only work saturdays. No surprises here guys, £45 a week goes no where. It just about paid for my netflix subscription and phone bill each month. Around Christmas of 2016, the family business was struggling for money too, that resulted in a lot of arguments and stress that got in the way of my studying, and also resulted in me taking full charge of the horses feed. My family blamed the horses for the poor financial situation we were in, so my attempt to combat this was buying the feed each week. I was in my overdraft a lot, I was tired, and forgot a lot of the time what it was like to be at home for once. I was at uni monday till friday, when I was home I was making sure the horses were done and ridden, worked all day friday and then often competed on the weekends, but I couldn’t fully commit to anything.

I wasn’t doing badly with my grades I must add, I was consistently hitting 2.2, 2.1 and firsts in my assignments (those who’ve been uni know what that means, for those who haven’t, a first is the best you can get) but I still think I could’ve probably gotten much better if I had the time to properly commit to my assignments. I’d often finish the horses at 8pm or sometimes 8:30pm and have dinner, shower and then be far too tired to sit at my laptop and read and type for hours on end.

When uni revealed a big exam on Renaissance drama in June, I quickly realised I not only had no confidence in passing, but realised I was really hating studying, I hated the uni environment, I hated the lack of guidance and I didn’t see the point of my degree. I had no clue what I wanted to do after I graduated. I’d have been graduating this year, all my friends just finished their dissertations. I printed out the form to withdraw from my studies, and took it to the office and walked out of the uni for the last time. And I was done.

In the end, money and my lack of confidence that I wanted to really sit and push paper for the rest of my life, with a degree and nearly 30 grand of debt aided my decision to drop out. I didn’t quit to ‘play with ponies’ so much, but I realised horses and the equine industry is where I wanted to excel. I’d rather be outside getting covered in horse hair, covered in chilblains from long hours out in the cold than sat in an office from 9-5. I’m determined I can succeed and be happy without having a degree and a fancy job, even if it means I won’t necessarily be having yearly holidays and driving a brand new car.

Part of me is a little sad I won’t be able to post the classic photo of me chucking my hat in the air with a scroll in my hand, but the minute I handed in that form I felt a weight had been lifted, and I’ve never been so driven to get where I want to be.


BHS Stage 1- Week 1

So hello again, I think it’s been around a month since my last blog. I was in the process of writing a new one and had a huge case of writers block. Perhaps I overthink these blogs too much but never mind, what’s new there.

Like most of you in all likelihood, Christmas has been a busy time so I decided that might be my main focus until the new year and I stopped eating everything in sight and went back to work. I have tried to focus on spending time with loved ones, finishing christmas shopping in time and testing my stamina and patience with work right up until 2:30 on Christmas Eve. In the new year, me and the other half travelled to the Cotswolds for thr afternoon and checked out the amazing and unique Caffeine and Machine (a must for anyone who loves cars) But alas the festivities end, Liam is now back at work down south, I’ve spent way too much time riding around on Red Dead Redemption 2 and so now everything is back to normal (almost) I am determined to keep up the blogs regularly, because new year, new me or something similar.

So yesterday, 7th January, I started my BHS stage one course, I’m wanting to eventually become an instructor/coach, so this is a necessary step towards that career. So that’s my monday evenings for the next 9 weeks fully booked. The fun part is I also work mondays from 1pm till 5:30pm and then it’s a 20 minute drive to the equestrian centre for my training session at 6pm. I had 0 idea what to expect so kind of just piled all the stuff I thought I might need and thank god I packed my riding gear.

So after filling out my details, it was time to tack up and get to the indoor for an hours lesson. I was given a small coloured horse named Obi, who my instructor warned me was ‘grouchy’. In my personal dictionary I take ‘grouchy’ as ‘bitey’ and ‘kicky’ so I’m instantly wondering if a broken kneecap is the first thing I will gain from this course. Thankfully Obi seemed to be only minimally grouchy, and thankfully I’m fairly used to grouchy horses since my own oldie Umbro enjoys biting, or at least trying to, whenever you’re working around his girth and belly area. While there is a bit of a difference between a horse you work around everyday and completely different horse you don’t know at all, I hoped if he was terrible they wouldn’t allow me near him.

I managed to brush and tack him up without too much drama anyway. My lesson was interesting also. I haven’t ridden any horses that weren’t mine for a good few years, I had riding lessons until I was around 13 or 14, but I hadn’t ridden riding school horses since I was about 11, so it was extremely odd riding a completely new horse. I would include a photo of Obi but I need special permission to upload photos of school horses online so you’ll just have to imagine a grumpy 15hh or so cob type gelding.

We also had an entire section dedicated to no stirrup work, which is something I’m not completely alien to as I still try to do no stirrup work at home, but when my upper thighs start severely aching I will usually give myself my stirrups back. The difference with having lessons is you don’t get them back until your instructor says so. When I actually dismounted, my thighs were screaming at me. The blessing I guess was that Obi is a considerably comfortable horse to do no stirrup work on, so it could’ve always been a lot worse.

It may sound weird, I’ve been riding for 14 years this year, but going right back to basics is rather refreshing. It’s very easy to pick up little habits when most of your schooling work is you on your own for 30 minutes with no one telling you what you’re doing wrong. So actually I feel like lessons are something I’ve been needing, and from my riding without stirrups, my instructor picked up on my lower leg being a bit too far forward, so I am now training myself to keep my calf and ankle further back in order to keep a straight line between my shoulder, hip and heel (if you did pony club, you’ll instantly get taken back to PC camps by reading that) Having a forward lower leg is a habit I feel I’ve picked up from showjumping since your riding style isn’t really picked up on too much jumping ( also jumping saddle push your lower leg forward) but this can offset your balance and cause your upper body to lean back.

the next hour of my training session, after riding, was going through grooming brushes and their individual jobs. Is it embarrassing to admit I actually learnt some things? For example, water brushes actually have use?! what?!

All in all, week one, was pretty successful, and I’m feeling decently excited for the next few weeks, and it’s giving me some serious back to school vibes since I’m hearing words like ‘revision’ but riding and horse play is a damn sight better than studying for my degree was.

The rest of the week is fairly busy too, we have the farrier coming tomorrow to sort out Shannon’s tootsies in time for a show next week, thursday we’re taking Bert for some fun in a jumping arena to give him something a little different rather than just flatwork all the time, since I think he gets bored pretty easily. Then it’s work as usual before the start of the next week, and I’m knackered already! Hope to check in next week with the same element of enthusiasm!

Show Day!

So today, like many of my Sundays was a show day, more specifically dressage.

Since it was a dressage show, it was Bert’s turn for a run out. After an interesting training session on Thursday, which wasn’t ideal for me to get an idea of how Bert was feeling due to the wind, it was a real toss up between going well and going shockingly. Thankfully Bertie is a complete professional in most situations (except travelling in the trailer).

The day started regrettably later than I’d have liked. I set several alarms, the first starting at 10 to 6 in the morning. No surprises I didn’t hear any of them and finally arose from bed at quarter past 7, when I really should’ve been on the yard by 7am. I’m sure many people can agree trying to get out of bed when it’s still dark, I know I definitely do.

My test was 10:42am so an early-ish start was crucial. The horses were finished by 9am, which meant I could spend the next 40 minutes grooming Bertie, loading the car, filling a haynet for the journey and dressing myself ready for dressage. Thankfully today’s venue is extremely local so we can get away with leaving that little bit later than we would for another venue. By 9:40am we were on our way and arrived by 10:05. Just enough time to get ready, pop on Bert’s bridle numbers and warm up.

Since Bert is an older horse (a ripe old 19, nearly 20), he requires a longer warmup. 20 minutes is usually what I go for, with plenty of stretching, circles and transitions to wake him up. Otherwise, he can be quite stiff and will struggle to really step out and bend correctly during the test. He felt good in the warmup, a few issues with keeping in canter on the right rein, usually this means I just forget to give him a squeeze with my leg to remind him to keep on. His trot to canter transitions were great today however, which is always a relief since he tends to be a little stiff on the right rein and at times will ‘run’ into canter rather than smoothly transition.

It was then time for the test, which went very nicely and thankfully I didn’t forget it. It was just a preliminary 1 test today since I wanted less stress and Novice tests require much more brain power. There was plenty of nice horses there today so wasn’t too confident about how we’d place but much to my surprise we placed 2nd! With a score of 70.7%, which is one of our best yet. A great end to 2018’s dressage with Bertie, and looking forward to our next show which should hopefully be at Arena UK in January. I’m thinking Bert’s visit from the physio earlier this month has reinvigorated him!

What Have I Been Up To?

I’m checking in a little later than planned.

In truth, I almost didn’t write a post tonight either but felt I needed to stick to my word and keep up this blogging thing. However, it won’t be anything necessarily interesting as my brain is not functioning enough to piece together something more interesting and coherent.

So, what have I been up to? Oh Jesus, this means I have stretch my mind back over the past week and remember… I’m blaming the foggy head on two weeks of useless antibiotics for the famous winter cold and sore throat.

It’s been a week of attempting to catch up with jobs I’ve been putting off for not only a few days, but more like weeks. This includes my cars rear tyres which I discovered had a nail in them along with the decreasing tread. And despite this, my handy dad plugged the puncture and good old me still decided to drive 300 odd miles to Cornwall and a further 170 odd miles to Kent for the weekend. Apparently that can be a tad dangerous but I survived.

This week, we finally decided it might be time to get them sorted so I spent a large portion of my afternoon yesterday waiting in the garage for them to be done. Amazingly enough, I didn’t get much done with the horses yesterday. Monday and Tuesdays I work in the afternoons, so it is always a mad rush to get horses ridden and get beds ready for when I’m home at half five. This would be considerably easier if I was able to get up early in the morning but unlike many equestrians, I am not fantastic at this most mornings. I always set several early alarms but it doesn’t seem to do an awful lot, and since I can sleep through earthquakes, some mornings, those alarms are not enough.

My current routine on these days are to be on the yard for 8-8:30am, from there it will usually take me an 50 minutes to an hour to feed, muck out, fill water buckets and give them haylage. Turning out will usually push this routine to the hour mark.

With it being winter, this puts pressure on many of us to ride early and get most things sorted before it’s too dark (I had to make a makeshift headlamp out of my phone torch and my headband in order to pull down straw bales last week). I always prefer getting my riding done in the morning anyway since I have a lot more motivation at that time, and that’s usually before the rain starts in winter anyway.

Today was feed buying day, which meant a trip to where I work to grab my horse feed and be back in time to set off for some dressage practice at Aylesford Equine (I cannot recommend this place enough!) in order to have a little run through the test for a show on Sunday. So the plan was to get my horse Bertie brushed, booted and loaded for half 10 to get in the dressage arena for 11am. To add to the excitement, the wonderful British weather decided to have a hurricane moment, at times I felt taking Bert off the trailer would result in the trailer being blown across the yard like a cardboard box. Understandably, I was a little anxious and questioned my sanity slightly about getting on a horse in this weather.

I know many riders are not fond of riding in the wind, and I’m not surprised since many horses like to become top pricks in the wind. Despite Bertie spending most of his life acting like a “top prick”, he was extremely well behaved with only a tiny bit of dancing around. I had a slightly proud moment of both myself and Bert for being dedicated and braving the weather for some practice; lets hope its worth it this weekend!

I spent the rest of the day exercising a couple of the other horses, washing manes and tails (in order to combat all my horses manes dropping out during rugging season) and cleaning not only my tack, but my tack room too!

Tomorrow is the beginning of long weekend. I don’t enjoy Fridays quite as much as others might, however if you work weekends, you will understand my plight. The main frustration, again especially in winter, is not being able to ride, which means the horses particularly enjoy Saturdays… So that’s Work Friday and Saturday until Sunday’s show, hopefully I shall have the energy to update on how that goes. I’m just hoping I don’t forget the test… again…

The Things I’ve Learnt From ‘Quirky’ Horses

I’m a little later than I expected to be with a new blog idea, but the weekend proved busy with travelling to Northampton to see my other half Liam and then being up bright and early for a show over in Lincolnshire on the Sunday morning.

I had planned to write on overcoming nerves while riding but while scrolling through my Facebook feed, I came across a post from a dealer who had a horse returned back to her after the owner decided she just couldn’t get along with her new horse. It got me thinking about something I was mulling over in my mind a few weeks back, are people too easily turned off when a horse proves to have a quirk that they weren’t initially expecting?

First off, lets get this straight. There is a big difference between returning a horse because it is genuinely dangerous and could be a potential threat to ones life, and returning a horse because it turned away from you in the stable when you strolled in with its tack. There are unfortunately many dealers who are primarily interested in profit, and therefore have very little conscience when it comes to the wellbeing of those who trust them to sell them a horse that is safe and as described. Buying and selling horses is a mine field that I have started experiencing myself in recent years, but that is a conversation for another day. The following are rather brief explanations and back stories you could say about some of my own horses, and the quirks they exhibit, as well as presenting the idea that all horses are as individual as us and, metaphorically, cannot be groomed with the same brush. I’m sure there will be plenty I forget to mention but questions are much welcomed for anyone who has any.

What I am specifically referring to are those who buy a horse, and are shocked when it does… for lack of a better term; horse stuff. I am rather acquainted with difficult and quirky horses and always have been since I started riding aged 8. My parents were neither capable or willing to pay extortionate prices for ponies, in fact my first pony Rowan (who I still own to this day) was given to us free by a family friend. The only catch was my parents had to travel 4 hours with trailer to Hampshire to collect her, where she had been stood in a field for several years doing nothing. The girl who had her had jumped off her during a hack one day because Rowan had followed a pony ahead of her a little faster than her jockey had expected, screamed loudly and terrified poor Rowan.

It took my parents 4 hours to load her onto the trailer and many weeks after she returned home to me, I was thrown off 4 times in one day. My mum was a strong believer in ‘if you fall off, you need to get back on straight away’. So my tiny 8 year old self was hauled back onto the pony 3 more times before mum realised there might be an issue.

Eventually my parents decided perhaps she wasn’t entirely safe for a first pony, and after acquiring whiplash a year later after falling off her (on my front lawn of all places), my Nan decided she would buy me a pony that was safer.

Heather cost her £800, and was 11.2HH, an exmoor or dartmoor X  I believe, and was the definition of a grumpy old pony. The type who tried to nip you while girthing her up, couldn’t be turned out in a paddock over a certain size or you’d never catch the bloody thing, and liked to frequently turn her bottom on you when you walked into her stable with her tack, just on the off chance it might scare you enough to reconsider riding her.

She may sound like a total nightmare to some, others may find it amusing and think back on similar ponies they’ve had, but Heather taught me a lot in the 12 months I had her. She was never going to be a permanent fixture to the yard, we knew I’d grow too big for her, but she allowed me to get my confidence back. I would hack her out by myself, jumped her despite her refusing to jump fences when I first got her and even when we sold her, I hacked her up a busy main road one weekend to her new home. Despite all the quirks, my mum and Nan never once regretted buying her for me.

My next ponies would prove to be learning curves also. For some reason, when I was 10, I had my heart set on a 3 year old Appaloosa X Welsh cob and my mum gave in and bought him for me for £1250 I believe. Anyone whose worked with young ponies knows how difficult and wilful they can be and this one was no exception to that. When I think back to all the things we did and how many times my mum had to watch me tumble off the crazy thing, I think I must’ve either been childishly naive or dumb from all the horse falls. He taught me how to hit the ground, and how you should never assume things are always looking up just because you had one promising session. Young horses are just not like that.

My parents bought me a jumping pony a year later, named Shannon, a 14.1hh Welsh Cob X Hackney. She was initially meant to be my safe replacement after we sold my youngster as mum finally decided he was far too much to handle for an 11 year old, but soon ended up becoming my second pony alongside the youngster. Now, Shannon can jump her heart out, even to this day. A typical brave, bold mare, but thou shalt not be fooled. She is still a mare, and more importantly a pony, so she could be an absolute witch at the most inconvenient of times. She had a habit of training fantastically, and when we actually got to a show, she would put the brakes on, usually at the easiest fence on the course. For this reason, I learnt how to lose, hard, and frequently. But if you caught her on a good day, she could jump fences from a horizontal angle, in fact I think she still could if I asked her, and I could easily win every single one of my classes at shows.

Eventually I sold my youngster, when he was aged 7. This proved a hard decision, despite what I mentioned above about him being a complete pain in my backside (literally) and thus the search for my first horse began. Horses, as I’m sure most of you will know, are an entirely different ball game to ponies. You can’t ride horses the same as ponies, they often require a lot more fine tuning and attention, and my first horse Bertie, could not have been more the case. We bought him as an 11 year old, who hadn’t done an awful lot other than hack. My 14 year old self wanted him for a showjumper, which I very quickly learnt was not going to happen.

Some horses are not jumpers, and I am now a big believer that all horses, like people, have strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes it’s us as riders who need to adapt and try new things with our horses, in order to find their X factor, and just perhaps, it may be yours too. In the case of Bertie, he opened me up to the world of Dressage, after it became extremely clear he would never cut it as a jumping horse. Not that he lacks ability, but mentally he is not wired for jumping, and his head and feet just don’t seem to sync up. However, I had been told multiple times he would make a cracking dressage horse, so in 2016, I gave in and had a go. I quickly learnt to appreciate and trust my horse like I never had before, after my confidence had hit rock bottom with him, I actually felt a bond and connection I never had previously. All it took, was just giving it a go.

My showjumping dreams didn’t die however, as in 2013, mum bought herself a horse, whose story requires a separate blog post in itself. His name is Beanie, a 15.2HH Connie X ID and his brain certainly is wired for jumping. I think part of my decision to give dressage a try, was down to riding Beanie, and realising that everything about him screamed at me that he loved jumping and was talented at it. Both horses love their job, I feel equally at home on both of them, but in their respective disciplines.

Beanie however, is quirky. He is extremely moody, he dislikes being turned out for any more than an hour; any longer and he will be pawing at the gate trying to rip his shoes off. He is much more comfortable in his stable with lots of haylage and if we insist he’s exercised, he seems to really enjoy his ridden exercise. He also likes to walk away from you and make it difficult to tack him up, which caused me a lot of frustration in the early years He is a horse with a lot of nervous energy, he’s quite sensitive, much like the previously mentioned Rowan. For this reason, you have to be firm, but you also can’t shout at him or use a whip in anything more than a tap, otherwise he becomes extremely frightened very easily. He can be difficult to jump, but I learnt very quickly, not to ride him the same way I would ride Shannon, for example. He also enjoys a bit of a buck and a leap after fences and sometimes out hacking, but it fails to bother me at this point. The quirks are what make him unique and frankly very fun to ride.

I must state that certain issues with horses should be investigated, in order to rule out any pain or deeper set behavioural issues. But I think it is important to remember that they are animals, living beings like you and I, and they all have mood shifts, and things they are both good and bad at. My mum and I often used to ask ourselves this question, ‘Does the perfect horse exist out there?’ and the answer always was yes. But what each of us define as our perfect horse varies like our hair colour. I am not writing this to force the idea you should settle with a horse that scares you, or challenges you, but simply to ask you to perhaps consider exploring the options with your horse. When it comes to quirks like bucking, or nipping over the stable door, it often requires you to remember that they have their own habits that we would be much better off as riders, learning to adapt to and perhaps learn to love about our horses. Remember that every horse you ride, own, whatever, has a particular lesson for you.

So, Here It Goes..

So, in my time using the internet (a hefty 10 years now) I have used a handful of different mediums to share my ramblings and also rantings. I used Youtube for a number of years to make vlogs about a variety of different things as well as edits of my horses. These were usually 3 minute long (or however long the song was) edits of my two ponies at the time, Sky and Shannon, with trance and techno music over the top… it sounds horrific because it kind of was but 2009 was a different time.

Youtube sort of died, for various reasons it became harder to get any views and my vlogs became very difficult to make especially once I started big girl life, aka working and university. However I read an article on the ‘Equestrian Blogger’ and thought maybe I should put the one year I did studying English at University to some sort of use, and write down my thoughts and experiences, in a blog, such as this one right here.

So after that long winded preface, my names Kerry, I’m 21 currently and am from the East Midlands, a really dull place honestly. I have 6 horses currently, a number which many find both alarming and ridiculous and I can’t say I really blame them for this. It keeps me busy however, and I am a person who really likes being busy. I currently compete in unaffiliated showjumping and dressage, which I know a majority of people don’t find all that impressive or interesting, but as of right now it’s what I do and what I feel is within my horses capability. I hope to dedicate some of my blogs to reporting on my competitions, and as my mood on the outcome of competitions can vary, I hope it will actually make for some interesting reading,

My latest conquest is one to become an Equestrian Coach (teaching people simply put) and to create a pathway into working with horses for a living, something many have warned me against. If you also have this passion and ambition you can probably relate to this. You say ‘I want to work with horses’ and some of the responses include..

  • ‘Theres no money in that industry!”
  • “it’s a lot of work for little payoff’
  • “that’s not really a job’
  • “hard industry to make money in, that is”

In honesty, they do have a point. We all know the equestrian life is one with big expenses, early mornings, late nights, and little payoff, at least when we’re talking about financial payoff. Any of you who do ride or already work with horses, know it is extremely rewarding for us horsey ladies and gentlemen when we finally learn to do a flying change (something I have yet to master) or when your youngster decides he’s going to let you actually pick up his feet without throwing an almighty tantrum (still working on this too). For some it sounds like hell. For others, it’s heaven. As difficult as it can be to shift myself out of bed at 6am, it is a feeling like no other to be out and in company of your horses.

I am not a people person, my horses and myself is my favourite company, but despite this I am a little mouthy, and have a lot of opinions and thoughts. Perhaps my future blogs may have a little more focus and structure, but for now, I want this to serve as a little introduction to me, what I hope to achieve and what this blog is all about. I’m thinking some will be random things that have been in my head during the day, reports on the horses (I will do a separate piece introducing them at some point too, for reference and all that) and on show days, if not too knackered, update on how I did for those who may just care.

For now, I have the rest of my tack to clean before I can bless myself with some dinner so I’ll leave for now. I promise the next one shall be more interesting…