#maroussia

Douai (Nord), le Musée de la Chartreuse. Une visite pour la Nuit des Musées.

MAROUSSIA.

Caleb's old eventer, Maroussia. Retired from elite competition on the grounds of recurring back tenderness, Marou now chiefly spends her days nannying Cal’s young horses and trying to grow fat pockets. It is said that she enjoys feasting on mountain grasses and rare bouts of upstate sunshine almost as much as she enjoys asserting her dominance, and that her penchant for stealing (and drinking from) unattended open water bottles is just as strong as ever.

Maroussia. Beautiful, but failed Russian project.

- THROWBACK THURSDAY -

Portraits, early 2018

Cleaning up some old thumb drives (read: deleting everything); according to the dates on these files, the newest of these turned three years old a week ago.

I am very good at finishing projects in a timely manner. Very good. The best.

... but I am even better at hating them too much to post them and then leaving them to rot, only to rediscover them a significant time later and electing to post them anyway because (1) I no longer care and (2) one might as well.

Names of these horses under the cut.

“Marou looked more like the kind of horse a kid had after their first pony. You know, when they’d grown too big for the dainty Welsh A or gutsy Shetland they’d started on, but weren’t yet capable or confident enough for 95% of horses going in the next size up- the ditzy warmbloods, the loopy TBs; you know what I mean.         Everybody knew or had known one of these horses: that backyard-bred, god-knew-what cross who wasn’t winning any awards in the pretty department but was passed around local families by virtue of their kindness; a true hand-me-down horse, tall enough to keep newly grown legs from dragging in the dirt while being close enough to the ground to be reassuring. They usually came with some scandalous blemish: an eye lost to a branch while trekking or a clubfoot that miraculously never affected their soundness, or at the very least the kind of conformation that challenged the laws of bio-mechanics.

She looked like that, not the 2* eventer that she was.”

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(Freeing this from my drafts earlier than intended as apologetic evidence that I’m still on my feet; sorry to the handful of people I’ve freaked out/inconvenienced!)