Off to Christchurch today (2 hour drive + an hour on the plane) for the funeral of my neice Vickys' husband Peter. Sadly he was kicked in the chest by one of his horses and died from complications.
I remember in my hippy days before we could afford a tractor I was using the kids old horse to pull firewood out of the bush. I had rigged up an old harness which he didn't like and when I yelled at him to get going he let fly with a kick that whistled past my face and would have taken my head off if it had connected. Luck of the draw. I carried the rest of the firewood out on my back with a big horse smile following.