When I was a kid, 10 or so, when it was farrier day I was there on an upturned bucket watching everything. We had a barn that has a safe place from a kid to chill safely. I always found it amazing how some horses came in so ripped up, half the hoofs still in the shoe, or thrush that was bad from some of our guys in the wet fields. I would love to sit and watch, chat, learn, and I felt blessed these hardworking men and one woman would slow down just enough to point something out different on a certain horse. An angle or a crack in a bad spot that won’t heal without a lots of help. My old old blacksmith worked into his 90’s (!!!) and he loved to teach as well as get some help! He would ramble on with his tales and stories and I love them.

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