hunterseat df: Hunter Seat Equitation is a division that is judged on the ability and the style of the rider. The riders can be judged both over fences and on the flat.
Although true, hunters DO eat, at least the skilled ones do, my name derives from the world of horses.
And because the word hunter is in my name, people automatically think I'm a guy. Not even close.
Whenever I meet someone named Hunter I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying "That's my name, too!"
Although true, hunters DO eat, at least the skilled ones do, my name derives from the world of horses.
And because the word hunter is in my name, people automatically think I'm a guy. Not even close.
Whenever I meet someone named Hunter I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying "That's my name, too!"
A colorful day
Posted 05-02-2014 at 10:08 AM by hunterseat
As I read directions for Nice'nEasy, I am eager to put on the "Expert Colorist Gloves". Seems an easy way to become an expert at something. Having donned one glove I tell the cat "Now I'm half expert". Soon I'm going through the ritual of squirting stinky stuff in lines through my hair.
Why? You may ask.
Because, until the day I decide to go full-on gray, I'll keep coloring. Nothing dramatic. Just something to color the roots. There's no excuse for walking around in life with hair that's one color and roots that are another. Less than ten bucks and you can even yourself up. At least for a few weeks.
So I now have a Kroger shopping bag wrapped around my head as my color develops. (saves on Saran-Wrap). The dogs don't mind. They've seen worse - like stepping out of the shower I imagine them thinking "Put some fur on, Mom!" They are a shiny black and a sleek caramel color brown. Both have some gray but it is worn like a badge of honor.
And the cat, Leland, who has a color to envy, one much like my sweetheart, a muted strawberry blonde... Suffice to say anything I do proves undignified to him. He's never impressed.
And if my guy comes home and doesn't notice? Then I've succeeded. I want my positive efforts to contribute to the pleasant life he's used to living. A seamless positive home, a contrast to the harsh world beyond.
But he better appreciate my cooking.
Why? You may ask.
Because, until the day I decide to go full-on gray, I'll keep coloring. Nothing dramatic. Just something to color the roots. There's no excuse for walking around in life with hair that's one color and roots that are another. Less than ten bucks and you can even yourself up. At least for a few weeks.
So I now have a Kroger shopping bag wrapped around my head as my color develops. (saves on Saran-Wrap). The dogs don't mind. They've seen worse - like stepping out of the shower I imagine them thinking "Put some fur on, Mom!" They are a shiny black and a sleek caramel color brown. Both have some gray but it is worn like a badge of honor.
And the cat, Leland, who has a color to envy, one much like my sweetheart, a muted strawberry blonde... Suffice to say anything I do proves undignified to him. He's never impressed.
And if my guy comes home and doesn't notice? Then I've succeeded. I want my positive efforts to contribute to the pleasant life he's used to living. A seamless positive home, a contrast to the harsh world beyond.
But he better appreciate my cooking.
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