As I picked myself up out of the soft dirt of the floor of the big outdoor school I told Earl, “I knew she was getting angry with me, I just didn’t pay enough attention to the signs she was giving me.” I had been trying to start her into the flexion of the loins, otherwise known as yielding the hindquarters away from the leg. The mare had tried rearing a little, then pawing, and darting her head to the ground. I had continued asking with my leg to have her step away, instead of backing up. Suddenly she bucked three times, hard and lightening fast. I was on the ground. Now I know that she has a limit, and when I push the limit she loses her sense of humor and tells me it is no longer fun or play for her. Better I should have stayed a little less serious, and asked a touch less, and allowed her to learn the flexions of the loin a bit more slowly. Making haste slowly.