change your story
Mark looked at the horse and new rider and said so matter of factly, "You know, this changes his whole story?" And I looked at him, expected more of an explanation. Mark continued, "His story with horses. He said his only experience with horses was riding a pony as a kid for a few minutes. He had no experience, at least nothing substantial. But he can't say that now." And I got it. Mark was right. Ajay, even though he was nervous and as green as it gets when it comes to country living—got up on that draft horse. He did it even though he was scared, and now that he realized there wasn't a landmine in the saddle and was actually controlling the reins enough to make Steele circle, back up, turn, and stop, he looked ten feet tall.
He can't believe he's only been here since Wednesday night. Because our work starts so early (4:45 on a weekday), and lasts till dark, the days stretch out into a dance of sweat, food, meals, and more sweat. Breaks are few and cherished in swimming holes or hot tubs at friend's houses. In a few more days he'll move on to a new farm and start work there. I'm grateful for the help while I have it. I hope he sticks around to do some more riding, hard work, and falls in love with Washington County and our way of life up here. It's sure been wonderful seeing a good friend so happy and tired. <
He is changing his story.