Now, just because I take pictures of horses doesn’t mean I think I’m some kind of Jr Pioneer Woman. I too have horses. I too am a photographer. Oh, and we both have four kids. But we live worlds apart, even though, yeah, sure, the life she’s living would have sounded like heaven to me at 13. Anyway, Pioneer Woman I am not, though I love her images. Hers are hers, mine are mine. There you go.

Now. Back to the horseflesh.

The girls and I were out for a walk last week (our last hurrah before they started barfing) and stopped to watch one of the horses have a nice invigorating roll in the snow. He was so pleased, he rolled again. And again. Jules and Mae were enthralled.

Down he goes. The head gets buried cheek-first in the snow…

and with a grunt, the roll begins.

In a sudden flailing, he heaves his hooves skyward.

Gravity and the curse of a naturally rotund belly begin to reassert themselves.

Ahhhh, that’s much better. Now if I can only get up… my butt is freeeeeezing!