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[personal profile] annwfyn
I'm in Lambourn today, spending some time with my family as it is Easter. I wandered up to the village shop to get some milk, and while I was there I heard one of the shop assistants chatting to a friend.

"Well, we went Rooksnest, and you know that last canter...?"

When I was riding a lot around Lambourn that was always the way we phrased it as well. Someone would say "where shall we go?" and someone else would answer "let's go Rooksnest/let's go Priddles/let's go Pigfarm". There was never any kind of preposition. There was never any need. Rooksnest, or Priddles or Pigfarm (and there were way more) were not just places, although they usually took their name from a nearby farm. They were the names given to specific routes along bridlepaths that we all knew. We all knew when to canter, when to gallop, when to trot, when to get off and walk on foot as not to unbalance the horses.

And listening to those girls just took me right back. I don't know if they ride with the same riding school I rode with, or if it's just local knowledge. I suspect the latter, and I loved hearing those old familiar words being said by someone ten years younger than me.

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