Fairy Tail Farm

11/01/2026

10/31/2026

“When you first start to learn about how to teach horses to be soft, balanced, relaxed, and forward, you will feel a little overwhelmed at what it takes.

Your friends might be out on their young, or green horse, or older horse with history, charging about in groups.

You will be walking squares, and side passing, and getting that back up just a little better.

Others will be out trying to force their horse through something, trying to beat the clock, or impress a judge.

You will be correcting slight balance inconsistencies whilst walking, trotting, and loping on a loose rein.

Some will be reefing their horse to a stop, hauling on it for a turn, and spurring it to go, trying to work a cow.

You will be helping your horse to better understand that accepting the bit and following a soft feel is much better than avoiding it, or leaning on it to protect himself.

Riders you know, might be trying to make their horse go near something they are worried about, and you will be busy teaching yours that something is ok.

They will be focussed on blaming the environment or the horse’s past for their failings.

You will be busy working on what needs working on with the horse you have in front of you.

One day you will see them running the energy off their rushy, braced, confused, tolerant horse so they can ride it, from the back of your soft, relaxed, confident, brave, balanced, energetic, sound, amazing horse.

And you will know how to improve on that, not make it worse.

There is no magic training, or magic equipment.

That is all.

Ok that is not all.

Those others that I talked about will probably tell you how fortunate you are to have lucked upon a horse with such a great temperament, or that you would find things different if he were a hotter breed.

Chances are, most of them won’t even know enough to recognise the way your horse carries himself or moves as an improvement.

Don't expect any praise.

Your enjoyment should come from your own sense of achievement, and the fact that riding horses that operate like the one you trained is addictive.”

- Ian Leighton Horsemanship, 2015

10/30/2026

10/29/2026

75 years young. Six hip replacements. And absolutely no plans to stop riding! ❤️ When Annette Reals and her 25-year-old gelding Knight's Tale entered the Windridge Farms Fall Horse Trials earlier this month, they were chasing a goal Annette had dreamed of for years: completing their USEA Century Ride.

Not only did the pair reach the milestone with a combined age of 100, but they also WON their Starter division, finishing on their dressage score!

Read Annette and Willy's inspiring story ⬇️

10/22/2026

Well… after somehow managing to stay in the saddle for more than five years, I finally broke my streak yesterday.

I made the mistake of riding Fritz a little too much like the Arabian half of him and temporarily forgot that the other half is Warmblood—with a very effective STOP–POP–SHOULDER–VANISH button when he'd rather stop next to another horse, instead of keep cantering. I did not sit it. Thankfully, I landed relatively softly. Nothing broken, nothing seriously injured. I'm definitely sore today, but physically, I'm okay.

But the fall really isn't the story I want to tell. What happened afterward is.

Fritz didn't run away. He didn't retreat from me or go looking for his friend. He stayed right there, watching me. When I got up, I walked over, scratched him, and reassured him because I genuinely don't believe putting me on the ground was his intention. He reacted, and I didn't stay with him. That's horses. There was nothing there for me to be angry about or punish.

So we walked back to the mounting block, and that's where something happened that I don't think I'll forget for a very long time. Mounting has historically been difficult for Fritz. He gets anxious, standing still can be hard for him, and I've spent a lot of time making sure that process doesn't become a fight between us.

Yesterday, immediately after losing his rider, he walked over and stood. I stepped onto the mounting block, and he wrapped his entire head and neck around my back and just held me there for probably 45 seconds. He wasn't nibbling, searching for treats, pushing me around, or trying to leave. He just stood there with his head wrapped around me while I scratched him and talked quietly to him.

Then he put his head back into position. I left the reins completely loose, put my foot in the stirrup, and got back on. He didn't move. I settled into the saddle, and he waited until I actually asked him to walk forward. It was the quietest he has ever been for me at the mounting block.

I don't think that was an accident, and I don't think that moment started at the mounting block. I think it started in all of the tiny interactions we've had leading up to it.

It's in the little head scratches I give him throughout our time together and the scratches on his withers when I feel him soften underneath me. It's in the quiet words of comfort when he's worried and the praise when he tries, even if what he gives me isn't perfect yet. None of those things look particularly important on their own, but I think horses notice far more of those moments than we give them credit for.

It's also in how I ride him. I'm constantly paying attention to what happens underneath me when I close my leg or take a feel of the reins. Does he need more guidance here, or does adding more pressure only make him worry? Can I soften my hand? Can I lighten my seat when I feel his back tighten? Can I give him somewhere to go instead of trapping him between aids when he's anxious?

Sometimes it's trusting him enough to let something feel a little imperfect. Sometimes it's accepting 70% because I know he genuinely tried instead of drilling for the other 30%. Sometimes it's recognizing the difference between a horse telling me "no" and a horse telling me "I don't understand yet."

Those choices aren't flashy. Nobody is standing on the sidelines applauding because you noticed your horse tense beneath you and changed something about yourself before demanding that he change something about himself. There aren't ribbons for knowing when to soften, when to insist, when to reassure, or when to simply give a horse a moment to process.

But those moments accumulate, and eventually you find out what you've been building.

Yesterday, I found out.

When something went wrong and I suddenly wasn't on his back anymore, Fritz didn't decide that the safest place was somewhere away from me. He stayed. When I approached him, he didn't brace for punishment or retreat. He came closer. Then this horse, who has consistently struggled with anxiety around mounting, stood more quietly than he ever has while I climbed back onto him.

To me, that is horsemanship.

I talk a lot about having a horse-first mentality, and sometimes I think "horse-first" gets reduced to simply being nice to horses. That's not what it means to me. I apply pressure. I have expectations. I correct things. I ask horses to work through difficult moments, and sometimes I absolutely tell them that an answer isn't acceptable.

Being horse-first means that underneath all of that, I'm paying attention to the individual horse I'm teaching. I want to know how much pressure THIS horse needs, what makes THIS horse nervous, what gives THIS horse confidence, when THIS horse needs me to insist, when he needs me to wait, and when he needs me to trust him enough to get out of his way.

I don't just want compliance. I want partnership, and partnership requires trust in both directions.

Yesterday, I trusted Fritz enough to get right back on with a completely loose rein, and Fritz trusted me enough to let me. More importantly, after something went wrong, he wanted to stay with me. He wanted to reconnect. In his own way, it genuinely felt like he wanted to fix what had happened and make amends for something I don't even believe he meant to do.

And that means an incredible amount to me because I earned that trust.

I earned it through hundreds of tiny interactions where I chose to listen. Every time I softened when he softened, offered reassurance instead of immediately escalating pressure, scratched his forehead just because I could, or changed something about myself because I felt tension developing underneath me. Every time I trusted him when things felt a little imperfect, I was showing him that I was listening.

We spend so much time thinking about what we're teaching our horses that I think we sometimes forget they're also learning who we are. They're learning what our hands mean, what our legs mean, what happens when they make a mistake, whether we'll listen when they're uncomfortable, and whether they have to shout before we hear them. They're learning whether we're someone they can trust when they aren't sure what to do.

Yesterday, Fritz showed me what all of those little moments have added up to. When things went wrong, he didn't want to get away from me. He wanted to stay with me.

There are plenty of things I want to teach this horse, and I know he has plenty left to teach me too. But I'm not sure I'll ever be prouder of anything we accomplish together than knowing that when everything quite literally fell apart, he still saw me as someone safe.

I fell. And Fritz stayed.

10/20/2026

10/19/2026

There’s nothing prettier than a horse and rider moving together in harmony… but I’m not sure I agree with the perfect bit.

Because when is it ever actually perfect?

For me, harmony is when horse and rider understand each other. You might still have a slightly wonky transition, miss your line or have a moment where things don’t quite go to plan, but you’re working together.

We spend so much time in dressage chasing perfection that sometimes we forget to appreciate when it simply feels good.

I’d take a happy horse, a rider who is listening and both working together over “perfect” any day.

What does harmony look like to you?

10/18/2026

Share this ❤️

I’ve been reading quite a few comments recently criticising people for not doing things “correctly” with their horses.

Now don’t get me wrong, everything we do should be ethical, fair and with the horse’s best interests at the forefront.

But when someone posts their first attempt at a leg yield, their first flying change, or something else they’ve been working towards and it’s not perfect… so what?

Was your first one perfect? Were your first few perfect? If they were, please show us 😂 and I hope they’re still perfect now!

Sometimes I think social media has made us scared to get things wrong.

My motto has always been… go and try it. Make it fun. Get it wrong sometimes. Learn from it. Come back and try again.

None of us start at the finished product, horses included.

Ultimately, it’s about learning and growing together. That’s surely what training is supposed to be about.🐴

10/17/2026

Sometimes I think we can make training far more complicated than it needs to be.

There are so many simple ways we can help our horses become more athletic, stronger and just feel better through their bodies, without us constantly trying to manufacture it from the saddle.

Sonney and I use trot poles quite a lot. For me, the biggest benefit is that I can almost sit there and let him work it out. The poles encourage him to pick those knees up, use his hocks and think about where he is putting his feet without me having to keep saying “more, more, more”.

Does he always get it right? Absolutely not 😂 He might knock one, get a bit lazy or misjudge where his feet are. But I actually try NOT to correct him. We come around again and I see whether he changes something himself based on what happened the time before.

I think sometimes allowing the horse to find the answer is just as important as us giving them the answer.

We also use K Tape over Sonney’s SI area, which was recommended by his physio, and I genuinely notice a huge difference in how he feels through his body with it on. Obviously that’s something I’d always use under professional guidance rather than just sticking tape everywhere and hoping for the best 😂

Not everything that improves a horse has to be complicated. Sometimes poles on the floor, giving them space to work things out and listening to the professionals around your horse can make a massive difference.

What simple things do you use that have made a noticeable difference to your horse?