So I had a beautiful weekend full of memory making. There are lots of stories that go along with it so I'll try and get them all out this week. The first one I'd like to tell is about the mustache horse. It was on the island of Inis Oirr in the pouring rain. This island was full of stones. There were stone fences as far as the eye can see. All of them enclosed relatively small "fields". Some of these fields were 70% rock and only 30% grass. It was in one of these fields near a small stone "castle" that there was a large draft horse. His hooves were close to 1 foot in diameter. When he came closer I noticed that on the edge of his large pink nose was a white handle bar mustache! I can only imagine that whoever owned the horse got so bored one day that they decided to trim the horse's hair into a mustache. He was a very nice horse and let us pet his nose. When I fed him a bit of really soft grass on the other side of the fence he became really friendly and stuck his head way out.
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