Horsey, Frosty French Mornings

It is pretty frosty and cold here these French mornings. When the kids are just headed to school, it's enough to fill them full of warm, cinnamony oatmeal, bundle them into coats, scarves and hats and send them trotting into their warm, toasty classrooms for the morning.
 

On Wednesdays however, in the case of Ma Fille it's the chilly stables not the warm classroom she's off to. This morning she wore her riding gloves and her pink jacket that I'll never be able to get the horsey smell out of.


As we drove the back roads through a local vineyard we oohed and aahhed at the beauty of the barren vines, cut back for the winter to resemble gnarled witch fingers with a dusting of white frost beneath. You could practically hear the crunch it would make if you were to take a stroll through them.

These Wednesday mornings are special to me and Ma Fille because we get to be alone. P-Daddy stays home with the boys so I can take her and stay and watch as she rides.

She was thrown before Christmas, breaking her helmet and hurting her shoulder and since then has wanted me to be there. She's not afraid anymore and has even ridden the throwing horse since, not letting it get the best of her, but a part of her feels safer I think if I'm there.

Just in case. Plus, I love to watch her and while I have the chance to ditch the tumbling, running, spinning energy of my boys, I'll take it.
Today they did pre-jumping exercises; standing on the stirrups, leaning way forward, leaning way back. It is wonderful to see your child blossom and while she has a bit of the awkward adolescent creeping into her movements, on the horse she is fluid, regal and elegant.

And when we got home Littlest turned the water hose on and blasted Clementine and her favorite digging hole with freezing water, Middlest couldn't find his tennis racket, hat or jacket and the kitchen floor was covered in muddy pawprints. Ah, bliss.

Happy Wednesday to you. What's your favorite thing to do on a frosty morning?