The picture on the wall.

On a distant fridge, a picture hangs with a single clydesdale. It’s what dreams are made of, reflecting the perfect horse of the judge over the weekend’s proceedings. His eye casts over the 60 odd horses on display, filtered by that distant view, as he selects his favourite.

His dreams are broken by a team of four, pulling an American style, handmade cart around the arena at speed. Each timed footstep of the horse is joined by the beating heart of the crowd. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Meanwhile, a break in the carts allow for the working classes. Loryn and I both took turns at the Pumpkin Snatch, before I returned to the ring for the chaff bag challenge. To our surprise, we took out 2 first places.

As the excitement and fun of the working classes had us looking at more horses to buy, we stayed on late into the night to continue learning and dreaming. The judge spoke late about the picture on the wall, training before taking to the ring and his reliance upon God. As his words told of honesty and truth, the words expanded outside the ring to the unforgiving world.

It was an early morning back at the farm, before breakfast and a campfire side lunch to enjoy the Worimi wind whispers. Beef and lamb cooked in camp ovens with ease, as the fire danced with steel to cook.

It was then back home, to keep the fire glow inside for the remainder of the week. Slowly, winter shared her force of cool, as snow fell on the Barrington Tops and a bitter chill frosted the lawn. Soup and hot meals helped to warm the night, as Polly ventured inside to sleep by the fire.

In between keeping the fire stoked, another trip to the farm, then Sydney and later to Brisbane kept the miles ticking over on the car. Sleep was traded over the attempt to live dreams, as study over the alter ego provided foundations for future work.

This week triggered the importance of spending time with my family, as I rushed to wave Dad off so I could attend a meeting. In my heart I know that the emotions must have resembled those he had when I was a child, working 6 days a week to try and get ahead. And yet deep down, I know we connected. That time and those pressures have fallen onto me, and now, it’s my time to choose the path…

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