“Instead of legs, horses should have wheels. Then they’d be petable motorcycles. ” ― Jarod Kintz, Sleepwalking is restercise

Mummy seems frighteningly keen to get me on a horse.  I know I keep her quiet for hours in the car by making every single possible animal noise ( including fish) but that does not mean that I want to ride.  I think they ought to be approached with caution.

Yesterday, I saw one throw back it's lips and try and take a chunk from its compatriots neck and Mummy expects me to stroke it. She has some crazy ideas.  (Something to do with being kicked in the head by a hoss?) Last week she got us chased by a herd of bulls.  She doesn't seem to realise that I am small and attractive in my orange jacket and yellow wellies.  Mummy says “It's hard to lead a cavalry charge if you think you look funny on a horse.” but I prefer Granddads motorbike.
But I can draw a horse.

This is my blue and green horse.  My horse under the sea.  My sea horse.  All my other colours were tucked up in bed.  I have started a wonderful relationship with them.  I have also progressed to circles.  Nana was so impressed by my circles that I drew one for her on her carpet.  She didn't seem so keen on that one.
Anyway, I am going home tomorrow.  I am so excited about seeing Daddy.  And the builders and Daddy. 

I shall miss the woods, and the birds and the newts the puddles and the sticks and the holes.

And the Bluebells and the trees and the light and did I mention the sticks and the holes?

But most of all I shall miss Nana and Granddad.  Kisses.