Riding habit
There's not too much finery in this ranch woman's closet. But there sure is outside.
The cherry trees that we planted for J. and C.'s third and fourth birthdays are sheathed in scarlet. No finer garment could be found, even on the overpriced Santa Fe plaza that caters to tourists with loads of money in their pockets.
Here's a gray, cloudy, soft-slurry-snow, muddy New Mexico morning daydream for you ...
I am riding Tobias side saddle.
We are galloping across a muddy field in Scotland. (I am from the Robertson clan.) I am wearing the most exquisite velvet riding habit.
It's red.
Bright. Scarlet. Cherry. Tree. Red.
