September 3rd, 1868

My letter to Ellen has been placed in the letter box. It'll probably be a few days before I recieve Ellen's reply. Anyways, the kittens are all doing well. Wilhelm invited me to go on a horse ride with him this morning, so I gave Ophalia kitten responsibities today. Right now it mostly consists of making sure they stay healthy. (And giving Juniper the attention she craves.) But in a few weeks, they'll be needing more attention and Juniper will start giving them solid foods. They opened their eyes for the first time a few days ago. Mozzarella's are always open the widest. He's clearly amazed by everything he can see.

Wil rode his horse, Bluebell. She's a beautiful tawny colored mare with an obvious urge to run as fast as she can. Which is very fast, mind you. I don't have a horse that I consider mine, but I'm fond of an older stallion named Grey-coat. He was named so by Father for his light grey coat of fur and dark grey mane and tail. He had a hard time keeping up with Bluebell during the ride.

We rode from the barn all the way across the width of the Valley, then made a wide right turn and rode down the whole length. It was exhilarating. I had my hair tied back, but it was still flapping wildly enough that it found its way into my face. At first, Wil and I were side by side. Then he urged Bluebell and she put on a burst of speed and the rest of the ride they were several paces ahead of Grey-coat and I. He's a middle aged horse, so his pace stayed steady but a bit slow.

We stopped to rest when we reached the end of the Valley. The horses both took a long drink from the river, then settled on grazing in a patch of grass where Wil and I had sat down. He and I didn't say much to each other at first. Then:

"Wil," I began. "Are you ever bored?" He laid back in the grass, arms behind his head and a thoughtful frown on his face.

"Well, I suppose the honest answer is yes. I do grow bored sometimes," he said, "There are times when the days become a bit repetitive." He smiled, "But there's always something new that I come across." I smiled a bit reflexively, then frowned thoughtfully myself.

"Do you recieve letters from John every now and then?"

"I do. Not very often, but yes, he tells me about his travels." He sat up around this time. "In fact, he sent a letter just last week." He grinned. "John is a horse farmer now, if that is the right word for it. About a decade before the Civil War started, he and Corin claimed a bit of land in the state of Kentucky and bought a few horses. After the war, they came back with more." This time I smiled widely. An image of Johnathan surrounded by a huddle of horses with an overwhelmed expression on his face popped into my head. I'm sure he's fine though; John has always loved his time with horses. At this point of the conversation, I was thinking to myself, 'Why didn't Corin tell me any of this in his letter?' I didn't ask Wil though. I doubt he would have an answer.

The only response I could come up with was, "That's interesting." Wil chuckled at that, then we sat in silence and watched river run by and horses graze. After a few minutes of taking in the scenery, Wil stood and offered me a hand, saying that we should head back. And so we did.

I'm still savoring the feel of the wind and sun on my face. I've been on plenty of horse rides, but it's always spectacular to experience the speed at which horses can run.