Bridle as art

It fills me with joy that not only my horse is here in Germany, but all his treasured things are here too. In fact, I have this lovely old bridle - actual leather, not biothane - that we used to use for that D word sport (rhymes with massage). I love this old bridle. Although my neatsfoot oil never made it to Germany, I found some "leather fat" at the barn and thoroughly oiled it. Now it's supple and sweet smelling, and I can't stop admiring it. It even has the fat old snaffle bit that I bought *before I had a horse* in 1988. (Isn't that nuts?) It is the oldest piece of horse equipment I have. We did a couple of training level tests, and because I tend to override at shows, poor Baasha was way behind the bit the entire time with this bit. (Secret: For my second test that day, I switched to a french link snaffle, and got a much improved score as his face was finally unstuck from his chest. Good thing the judge did not look in his mouth, I don't think french links are allowed in a test.)

I cannot seem to put this old bridle down in our basement storage area. It seems too pretty for the basement, it holds too many memories. So it's hanging like art in my apartment. Or at least, to me it seems like art. It is a constant reminder to me that my horse is here, even when I'm not with my horse.