I Am Psyched

For numerous reasons, to tell the truth.  First off, Windows Live Writer, the program that I have habitually written my old blog on for about a year now (I swear I'll stop referring to "the old blog" any day now) is also compatible with Blogger.  Well, in theory.  We'll see how well this publishes. 

The other reason (two=numerous, right?) is that our filly, Breeze, who's less than three months old, is more attached to me than any horse we've ever had.  Newly weaned, she eats much, much better out of my hand than if you just leave the grain in her bucket. Norm's been having a bit of trouble getting her to eat, but I don't seem to have that problem.  When I arrived home from work (angels, trumpets, and all) yesterday, Norm had Breeze on a lead rope and was letting her graze nearby.  I walked over, gave her a quick pat, said, "Hi Breezy," and told Norm I'd be right back out after I took a leak.  (Hey, this is a blog, and I write in the vernacular.  Apparently with a lot of parentheses today.)  As I turned and started walking down the driveway toward the house, I heard Norm yell, "Hey!" behind me, and turned around to see Breeze trying to pull him along toward me. 

I knew she was attached to me, but usually the horses prefer Norm.  He's the real horseman, after all.  I'm mostly along for the ride, having only been exposed to the whole horse world through him. 

"She keeps wanting to follow you!  Would you look at that!"  He was a bit surprised, but I have to say I was very pleased.  I've been spending a lot of time outside with Breeze, having been there since her birth, and I hand feed her quite a lot.  Looks like this one's my baby. 

So, yeah.  I'm psyched.   I'll try to put up a picture of her soon.