Monday, September 15, 2008  A lesson, a lightbulb, and a deer.
My dad's pretty cool. Generally, he supports whatever I want to
do - from "let me actually physically help you with this" to "I
don't understand it, but I'm right behind ya!" Horses are
definitely in the latter category. They're big, he doesn't
understand their behavior, they're expensive, and they're
dangerous. He'll ask about them, but it's more out of bemused
politeness than any real desire to hear the answer.  And he
really doesn't understand the whole lesson thing. It's not
snobbiness about dressage, it's just that he plain doesn't
understand what else I could possibly have to learn. I don't
fall off (much), the horses do (roughly) what I want, end of
story. About every ten days he asks if I'm through with my
lessons yet. I keep telling him it's something you can keep
learning your entire life, but he has no frame of reference and
you can tell whatever I say doesn't really sink in. Ahh, well.
I'm certainly not "through" taking lessons. I wa