Today was a bittersweet day for me. I spent the morning riding with my brother, probably the last time we will be able to do so together on his farm. He has sold the farm and will be moving soon to a smaller acreage, with much less room to ride. I rode Drifter today, a gelding (shown above) who seemed to find some humour in the fact that I was about to ride him. Maybe he thought I wouldn't be able to get up into the saddle, but I fooled him. I ride pretty well for an old coot with a few too many pounds.
We rode, reminisced, and enjoyed the cool, fresh air. It was, to me, a celebration of sorts, a celebration of being alive, of having a relatively close family that tends to overlook my generally antisocial tendencies, of having choices, of being healthy.
I moved to a smaller home last August. My brother is moving to a smaller place soon. I spoke with my sister and found that she too will be moving to a smaller place, in June. We're all getting older. Things change. It's part of life.
At least we're all still alive. One day, that too will change, but I'm not going to worry about that right now. Excuse me while I go and see what Drifter thought was so damn funny. It's better to laugh than cry, right?